BC: Before Children
by Brightbear
Summary: A demon attacks Cordelia, leading Angel back to Sunnydale where both Buffy and the Initiative await.
1. Return to Sunnydale

DISCLAIMER : All Buffy : The Vampire Slayer and ANGEL characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and Fox Studios. No copyright infringement intended, just a chance to share with my fellow fans and absolutely no money profit is gained on the part of the author. 4th Season Spoilers. Prior to the Buffy episode 'The I in Team'.  
PG-13. SUMMARY : A demon attacks Cordelia, leading Angel back to Sunnydale.  
  
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BC : BEFORE CHILDREN  
Return to Sunnydale  
  
Los Angeles was warm. On this particular night, the heat was on the verge of admitting the unwary to hospital. If you had any sense you wore as little as possible - unless you were Cordelia Chase, for who fashion was the be all and end all of the world. It was also because rather than despite the recent stint of murders and maulings, that she determined that nothing could spoil her celebrations, not even the weather. For these two reasons, Cordelia ended up wearing a fur-lined Doberman costume to Wesley's birthday party. The English national had so few friends in America, Cordelia organised the party but was forced to invite her own friends to fill up the space in the booked rooms. She intermittedly made attempts to ensure that Wesley and their vampiric employer, Angel, were enjoying themselves but after the first few failures, she concentrated on entertaining the rest of the guests.  
Entertaining was one of the things Cordelia did best but as the heat rose, her attention began to waver. She occasionally paused to lean out a window and let the breeze in because leaving the window wide open sent the decorations into fits. Wearing her interested expression (which Angel often mistook for her disinterested expression), Cordelia listened to Marianne, ice skating queen, talk.  
  
"So, have you heard the talk about the new private eye?" Marianne asked through a mouthful of olive.  
"No, but I would just love to," Cordelia raised her drink glass so the paper umbrella hid her anxious expression. "Spill."   
"Well," began Marianne in a conspiratorial whisper. "Carmel said that this guy who goes to her gym knows this girl who was being stalked by a creep... you know how it is, it's Los Angeles... and this guy comes out from nowhere... like superpowers or whatever. Saved her, sent the creep to jail. Everybody's talking about it."  
"That's our police force - nothing stands in the way of justice."  
Marianne paused, "He's not police, he's a private eye, Cordy. Hey, you work for a private eye, don't you? Maybe your boss knows him?"  
"Maybe," Cordelia wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead.  
  
"Are you okay?" said Marianne. "You look a little shiny."  
Cordelia flashed a winning smile, "Sure."  
Marianne looked unconvinced, "You're kind of sweating... a lot. Are you sure you don't want to take your coat off?"  
"No!" exclaimed Cordelia. "It'd ruin the effect of the outfit."  
Marianne didn't look satisfied so Cordelia threw up her arms in mock resignation, "Alright, alright, it's just my makeup, I'll be back in a minute. Now, promise you won't let the house burn down in my absense."  
Cordelia walked across the room to the bathroom, making sure everyone could see her sultry walk. As she shut the door, she made sure to flash Marianne another winning smile. As soon as the door was shut however, Cordelia gasped and slid to the floor. She fanned her face frantically with her hands and shed the heavy fur jacket. Gasping, she staggered to the sink to dampen a handtowel. She began to dab at the back of her neck with it, waiting for her temperature and heart rate to return to normal.  
  
"Hot, hot, hot," she moaned quietly to herself.  
She draped the damp handtowel across her neck and unlatched the bathroom window. She leaned out as far as she could, eyes closed in pure bliss as the cool air rushed past her skin. She fanned her face again and slowly opened her eyes to gaze at the skyscraper barely two metres across from her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, sending a familiar tingling feeling down her spine. Praying that it was just the cool breeze catching the attention of her hair follicles, Cordelia turned to her left. Clinging ambidextrously to the wall of the skyscraper in the very act of climbing it, were two black furred demons. They seemed just as surprised to see her as she was to see them. One blinked a couple of times before continuing to scramble up the side of the building. The other got curious.  
  
It began to move towards her. Cordelia gazed down at her furry costume which happened to be exactly the same shade of black as the demon's. Calmly, Cordelia flashed it a winning smile and, reaching up, closed the window. Shaken, she snatched up her coat and was reaching out to hang the handtowel on a rack as an afterthought when there was a fierce growl and the demon smashed through the window. It landed on top of her, raking her costume with it's claws but was stunned by Cordelia's incredible scream - three millimetres from it's large ears. She punched it in the head and tried to crawl out from under it. The demon recovered ard wrapped a clawed hand around her ankle, pulling her back down. Cordelia kicked out, catching the demon in the face with her high heels. Then she was free and sprinting out the bathroom door into the party, to crash into a concerned Marianne. The two of them sprawled on the floor.  
"What the...?" began Marianne.  
Then she saw the demon coming at her and Cordelia. Both girls screamed in unison as the demon leapt...  
  
A chair, hurled by someone in the crowd, collided with the demon in midleap. The chair fragments rained down on the two girls and knocked the demon to the carpet. Feeling threatened, the demon turned back the way it had come, ignoring the astonished spectators. Cordelia looked up in time to see Angel clambering out of the bathroom window in pursuit of the demon.  
"What's he doing?" Marianne asked, trembling.  
Cordelia ignored her and limped painfully to the bathroom window. Above her, Angel was climbing awkwardly up a drain pipe, trying to catch the fleeing demon. The demon was moving too fast for him, and realising it, Angel ducked into the nearest window. As he did, there was a startled screech indicating that the room had already been occupied. She could just hear Angel's muffled, "Excuse me."  
  
Swearing, Cordelia pulled back from the window and limped out to the hallway. She jabbed at the nearest lift button impatiently.  
"Cordy...," called a guest, wrapping an arm about her shoulders. "Come sit down."  
She was about to resist but was firmly guided into a chair. Instantly a knot of sympathisers formed around her. From their expressions, Cordelia knew they had enough sympathy to last all night. She hoped Angel was alright and then realised she had everyone's attention. Angel could look after himself.  
  
***  
  
By now the demon had reached the rooftop of the skyscraper where the second demon was waiting. They crossed the roof together in a half crouch. They paused to sniff the air, watching the skyline for a hint of what they were after. After a moment they found it, now they just needed to get there. Sensing that Angel had given up the pursuit, the first one straightened up and moved to the stairwell door. When he opened the door, he walked straight into Angel. Angel took advantage of the demon's surprise to grab it in a headlock. There was a sharp crack as the demon's neck broke. The second demon turned and ran with Angel close behind him. The demon reached the edge of the roof and scrambled down, head first. Angel stopped in a hurry, his momentum almost taking him over the edge. Looking down the building at the retreating demon, Angel jumped, catching hold of a window ledge before dropping gently to the next ledge and the next. The demon reached the pavement while Angel was still two stories up. The demon turned and headed along the busy street, frightening pedestrians as it went. There was a bright flash and the demon was now a doberman - just a stray dog loose on the street. Angel jumped onto the roof of a passing truck. As the truck driver was slamming on the brakes and beginning to swear, Angel was sliding down the side onto the ground. He ran down the street to the corner but the dog was gone.  
  
***  
  
When Angel returned to the office early the next morning, Cordelia and Wesley were already huddled by the computer. Cordelia was wearing a turtleneck sweater, pulled as far up her neck as it would go to hide the cuts and scratches the demon had inflicted. Wesley was leaning over her shoulder to see the computer screen. His closeness was bothering Cordelia who kept poking him in the ribs when he got too close.  
"Angel," Wesley called in greeting, taking the chance to step away from Cordelia.  
"So, is the big bad squished?" asked Cordelia, eagerly.  
"No," said Angel, flopping onto the couch. "No, it's not. It got away."  
Cordelia and Wesley exchanged a look at Angel's obvious irritation.  
  
Cordelia leaned forward, "Well, we know what kind of demon it is."  
"Let's hear it," said Angel, his irritation vanishing.  
"I entered the description into the demon database and I got something... an atashak demon, a shape shifter."  
Wesley took a few more steps away from Cordelia and continued the explanation, "Even better, we've found that the demon thrives on a certain type of mystical energy. There are few sources of this energy in this part of the world but I just happen to have a distribution map for the entire state."  
Cordelia looked up at Wesley in surprise, "Where'd you get that?"  
"My prior employment as a representative of the Watcher's Council required certain information be made available to me. I can get you the address."  
  
***  
  
The next night the three of them met at a construction yard. Angel surveyed the newly laid concrete critically, "Are you sure this is it?"  
Cordelia glanced at Wesley, "This is the source of those mystical rays the demons chow down on? I was expecting candles and incense."  
Wesley frowned, "It appears to have been built over. I doubt it would be much use to them now. Probably why they were climbing that building. It's not close to the centre of the city so it's away from the loudest sounds. From that height, they would be able to sense the next closest energy source."  
"Where is the next energy source?" asked Angel.  
Wesley brought a map out of his jacket pocket and unfolded it. Angel and Cordelia waited patiently, trying to ignore the unusual smell coming from a nearby dumpster, while Wesley ran his fingers along the map. He let out a heavy sigh and meticulously folded up the map again.   
"What?" asked Cordelia. "Where is it? It's not like Australia or something is it?"  
"I don't think you're going to like it," said Wesley.  
He turned to Angel, shrugging apologetically. "It's in Sunnydale."  
Angel was very quiet for about a minute. Wesley and Cordelia waited for him to speak but he turned and led the way back to the car. The other two exchanged uneasy looks and trailed after him.  
  
Wesley felt a need to explain further as they drove back to the office, "The leakage from the hellmouth actually makes Sunnydale the largest source of mystical energy on the continent."  
"So, we go to Sunnydale," said Cordelia grimly. "How exciting."  
"You guys don't have to come if you don't want to. I'll go," said Angel.  
"Angel, we're a team. Where you go, we go," said Wesley quickly.  
Cordelia shrugged, "Or where you lead, we follow, whichever you prefer."  
Angel smiled slightly and turned his attention back to the road.  
  
***  
  
Sunnydale. Angel looked around the familiar streets with an odd feeling of displacement. He'd lived many places in his life but he had never gone back to them because there was never anything to go back to. Cordelia had rung Giles before they came and Giles had insisted on warning Buffy of their arrival. Without much choice Angel had relented. He'd have preferred to disturb Buffy as little as possible, he wanted to arrive, do what they had to and leave. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing her again so soon after they'd broken up. He was also filled with an irrational desire to avoid her new boyfriend, Riley, like a radiation leak. Cordelia had handed Angel the phone and before he realised it, Buffy's voice was on the other end. What ensued afterwards was a brief phonecall during which he repeatedly pointed out that there was no need for them to see each other at all. Buffy's answers had been equally blunt and business-like, to the point of offering to help hunt down the demon. Angel had declined the offer, saying that with the stories about the Initative she'd already told him, it sounded like she had her hands full.  
  
A nudge from Cordelia and Angel remembered to get out of the car. Wesley was already out of the car, with his bag of gear, and gazing up at the familiar mansion.  
"Hmm," said Cordelia critically. "Wonder how long it'll take to fix it up?"  
"We'll only be staying a few days," said Wesley.  
"What makes you think it needs fixing up?" asked Angel.  
Cordelia turned her head to give him a look that Angel had yet to decipher but was rapidly becoming familiar with. Angel approached the double doors, fishing a key out of his pocket.  
"Seriously?" said Angel. "What makes you think that?"  
"Firstly, you used to live here. Secondly, nobody has lived here for almost a year," said Cordelia primly. "I don't understand why we can't just rent a hotel room like anyone else."  
"It would cost money and this place... that's odd. I thought I left a padlock on these doors."  
"Come on, come on. I'm freezing my butt off here," said Cordelia, pushing past Angel and opening the doors.  
  
The second she walked into the entrance way, she spotted the difference in decor from the last time she'd been here. Apart from the absense of Angel's furniture, which was now in his Los Angeles office, the pagan alter was the first thing she noticed. The second thing she noticed was the figures in black robes. They noticed her too and one of them raised a scaly knife. Cordelia turned around and ran daintly behind Angel and Wesley.  
"This is new," said Wesley.  
"No argument here," said Angel.  
Wesley dipped his hands into his bag and tossed a mace to Angel. The reaction of the black robes was to reveal more scaly knives. Wesley dropped his bag on the ground in preparation for the fight. The black robes charged at them and Wesley and Angel went into action. Angel swung the mace high as he fought, aiming for heads and a quick knockout. Wesley, occasionally ducking Angel's mace, slashed with a fighting axe. Their opponents were not hard to overcome but there were a few of them. Eventually one of them slipped past Angel and Wesley, heading for Cordelia. She screeched and knocked him unconscious with Wesley's bag.  
  
After the bodies of the demonic worshippers had been dumped in the river, Cordelia and Wesley began to think about food. Angel opted to go for a walk. The fight had left him restless and he was tempted to start hunting for the Atashak demon. Cordelia sensed his intent and made him promise to wait for them. So, instead Angel walked through the town, remembering. Remembering what it felt like to live in Sunnydale. He found a park bench and sat down, remembering a time he and Buffy had sat there together. She had been blaming herself for the death of... someone. She took so much responsibility for things she couldn't control.   
  
Absorbed in his brooding, Angel didn't notice the atashak demon sneaking up behind him. When the atashak demon pounced, Angel was thrown headfirst onto the bitumen road. With the pessimist's attitude to small accidents, Angel kicked out with his legs. He felt something connect with his feet and as he righted himself, he recognised the demon. The demon straightened up on it's hindlegs, it's clawed paws morphing into clenched fists. It took a couple of swings at Angel, who ducked easily. Angel went in with a swing of his own but the demon dodged and tackled Angel around the waist. Angel flipped the demon over his head where it collided painfully with the park bench. The Atashak demon morphed again into the doberman and took off. Snarling, Angel sped after it, unhindered by pedestrians in the empty Sunnydale streets.  
  
The atashak demon, still disguised as a doberman, cut across the park in his attempts to get away. The snarling of a werewolf in the distance was enough to spook it into altering it's direction. It instead headed for the woods near Sunnydale University where it knew it could easily loose it's vampiric pursuer. As it burst through a hedge onto the university campus, it collided with a camouflaged soldier. Instinctively the soldier froze and avoided making eye contact with what he assumed was a fierce canine. His blaster had landed a few feet away from him and he edged slowly towards it. He gave a surprised gasp as the dog morphed into a demon in front of him. The soldier dived for the blaster but the demon slashed at his chest, knocking him back. The soldier landed on his back, defenseless with the demon looming over him. Angel came bursting through the hedge and the demon abandoned it's attack to face him.  
  
The soldier reached his blaster but had little to do but watch numbly as the vampire and the black demon fought it out. The vampire's fighting style reminded him of something but he couldn't quite pin it down. He knew he'd seen some of those moves before. The style was certainly effective when combined with the supernatural speed of a vampire, and finally the exhausted demon leapt at him in desparation. Calmly the vampire seemed to guide the demon past him but when the demon hit the ground, a knife hilt protuded from it's chest. The vampire seemed to regard the corpse with a certain amount of satisfaction. Then it turned to the soldier, it's face appearing as if human.  
"Are you alright?" the vampire asked.  
The soldier recovered enough to answer, "For the moment, yeah."  
He attempted to raise his blaster but the vampire swatted it away from his hands.  
"Good," said the vampire.  
It picked up the blaster, tucked it's hands into it's coat pockets and walked off.  
  
The soldier fumbled for his radio, acutely aware that he was unarmed, alone and vulnerable.  
"Lilac one, this is Huckleberry three," said the soldier, using the familiar codewords.  
The patrol he'd wanted responed almost instantly, "Huckleberry three, this is Lilac one. What is it?"  
"Lost my blaster in an... unusual encounter with a hostile," answered the soldier, pausing to consider how to phrase the scene he'd just witnessed. "One hostile is down and needs to be collected, a second hostile moving on a heading of... 1,2, Alpha Niner."  
"Huckleberry three?" asked the voice from the radio. "This is Lilac one. We will intercept second hostile. Contact control for a retrieval team, over."  
"Thankyou, Lilac one," said the soldier, relieved.  
  
The patrol he'd contacted cut across the shadow ridden paths of the university campus to intercept the hostile. Forrest, the team leader, gave a handsignal to the others and they all came to a stop in a garden bed two hundred metres from one of the squat buildings with the familiar ECU Sunnydale logo. He leant towards one of the other soldiers.  
"What have we got?" he asked.  
The soldier pulled out a tracking device, "Located missing blaster. Signal's moving fairly slowly. He's near one of the dorms... Stevenson."  
Forrest raised his infa-red binoculars to his eyes and scanned the windows of the Stevenson dormitories. Each occupant was patterned in red, their temperature displayed on the screen. Each clocked in at 36.7 degrees Celsius - human body temperature. He lingered on one bedroom window before moving on.  
Thermal output clocking in at exactly room temperature.  
F: Vampire.   
R: Call in a standard triangle flanking manoeuvre.   
  
"The hostile?" the soldier asked when he paused.  
"No, I'd forgotten that Buffy Summers has a dorm room in Stevenson. Riley's there with her," answered Forrest in disgust. "They're making a lot of heat."  
The soldier decided it was best not to comment on that.  
"Target sighted," said Forrest, at last. "Thermal output clocking in at exactly room temperature."  
"Vampire," agreed the soldier.  
Angel was climbing the steps to Stevenson. There was no one around and he was aware that it was oddly quiet. At the top of the steps, he paused. A distinctive smell had reached him and he was torn between searching it out or going to see Buffy. His sense of curiosity overpowered his nostalgia and he came back down the steps. The marine's blaster thumped against his leg and he paused again to change his grip on it. Concealed beneath his coat, the blaster was another curiosity.  
  
"Take him down, Agent," said Forrest firmly.  
The soldier raised a weapon. Much more subtle than the firework show that erupted from a blaster, the sniper rifle fired small tranquilizer darts. A professional sharpshooter, the Agent took aim. One of the other soldiers signalled insistently to Forrest. Forrest signalled to the sharpshooter to wait, before crawling to the see what was up.  
"Movement in the bushes," the soldier whispered.  
The soldiers spread out, eyes and ears only, as the infa red binoculars had been left with the sharpshooter.  
"Nothing here," said Forrest. "We have to take the hostile down now."  
  
They returned to the sharpshooter, who was still tracking Angel with his gun. Angel was milling around, not going in any particular direction. He was hoping to catch the sent again. It was faint, the wind direction was not good for this kind of tracking but he could tell something fairly large was fairly close. There was a simultaneous yell and a wizzing noise. Angel turned to see a tranquilizer dart embedded in a nearby plant and commotion in a nearby garden bed. Tightening his grip on the blaster, he sprinted to the garden. A werewolf was attacking a group of commandos in camouflage. At least one of them was dead and a second werewolf joined in the scuffle.  
  
One of the commandos drew a knife and drove it between the shoulder blades of the second animal. Angel raised the blaster in his hand, looking up and down the unfamiliar panels. A young man in black, his feet slipping on bloody soil, lurched to his feet yelling "Pull out! Retreat!"  
The remaining werewolf dove at him. Angel aimed the blaster and fired. Aided by a healthy helping of luck, the blaster succeeded in sending a shot of blue energy slamming into the creature's chest. It was knocked backwards onto the ground. So was Angel, unprepared as he was for the weapon's recoil. The black man turned and spotted Angel barely two metres from him. Angel scrambled to his feet and took off, abandoning the blaster. Forrest was about to follow when he noticed the condition of his team. The sharpshooter was dead and three other soldiers were injured. There were also two werewolves to be taken care of, one dead and one stunned.  
"Call for back-up," Forrest ordered.  
"Who got the second wolf?" asked one of the dazed marines.  
"I... don't know."  
  
Angel had put distance between him and the marines but he remained uneasy. He was confident he could take the patrol by himself if he had to, but he didn't want to chance that one of the taser blasts wouldn't find it's mark. Buffy had told him of Riley's involvement in the Initiative and Angel was anxious to avoid complications. He headed straight for the crowded streets (as crowded as a Sunnydale street could be) and the Bronze, where he wouldn't leave any trail for the soldiers to follow. He hung around in the shopping mall for about half an hour before setting out to return to the mansion. Behind him, a plain clothes patrol followed.  
  
The team leader spoke softly to his companions, lessening the chances of someone overhearing their words. Angel walked ahead of them down the footpaths, presently in full view of witnesses but heading to more deserted streets.  
"Reid and I will take point, the rest of you set up on the flanks," said the team leader.  
Angel reached the street behind the Bronze, his ears almost visibly pricking up at some sound. He changed his mind and walked down the shady alley to the side of the Bronze. At the team leader's signal, two of his men strolled past the opening of the alleyway, talking casually. Angel turned to watch them but satisfied they were just passerbys, continued down the alley towards a dumpster and a familiar sucking sound in the shadows.  
  
Once on the other side of the alleyway entrance and out of Angel's sight, the two men stopped and pressed against the wall. The team leader motioned to two of the other soldiers to go around to the other end of the alleyway to block Angel's retreat. The team leader began a silent countdown for the men on the opposite side of the alleyway entrance.  
"Five, four, three, two..."  
Before the countdown finished, a vampire roared. Taken by surprise, the soldiers almost ran into the alleyway before they saw what was happening. Angel was wrestling with another vampire. Contrasted to the desparate, wild flurry of the other vampire, Angel was surprisingly calm and efficient. The team leader was too far away to see the stake in Angel's hand but he did see the other vampire crumble into dust.  
  
The team leader realised that if Angel turned he would see them. The team leader motioned to his men to get back. Trying to calm his heartbeat and gather himself for his next action, the team leader pressed himself against the wall.  
If the night had not been so clear, he might not have been able to hear Angel's voice, "Are you alright?"  
A watery, high pitched voice that crackled occasionally, answered "Oh, my god. Oh, my god."  
"It's okay. He's gone now."  
"Gone? You mean..."  
"Forget about him. You should get some rest. Do you have some friends who can take you home?"  
The team leader didn't hear her reply but a few moments later, Angel spoke again.  
"Here. Apply some pressure to that. Make sure you get plenty of water to drink. You'll be fine."  
"Thankyou."  
There was the sound of high heels pitter-patting into the distance.  
  
The team leader peered around the edge of the alleyway to watch Angel who was watching a young woman walk out of the other end of the alley. Angel looked after her for a minute, then tucked his hands in his coat pockets. The team leader motioned for his men to hide and they spread out from the alleyway entrance. Seconds later, Angel emerged from the alleyway and continued on his way. After he passed, the team gathered together again.  
"Did what I think happen, just happen?" asked one of the soldiers.  
"I'm not sure," said the team leader.  
Running footsteps came up behind them and they spun to confront the two soldiers sent to cover the other end of the alleyway.  
"That was quick," said one of them pleasantly.  
"What was quick?" asked the team leader.  
"Disposing of the vampire."  
"We didn't do that."  
"Who did?"  
  
The team leader indicated the rapidly disappearing Angel. The team began to follow him again, talking quietly amongst themselves.  
"What happened at your end?" asked the team leader.  
"We were slow in getting to the other end - there were a lot of people outside the Bronze. Luckily, no one else was close enough to the alleyway to hear the fight. Later, a girl walked out with a handkercheif pressed to her neck. She walked up to some other people and asked to be driven home."  
The end of that report was too open for the team leader's liking. The disgruntled patrol trailed Angel for the rest of the night.  
  
The sky beginning to get light when Angel returned to the mansion. Cordelia was awake and shooting up from the couch as soon as he shut the door.  
"Where the hell have you been?" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips.  
"Angel!" said Wesley angrily, emerging from the other room. "You promised you wouldn't go out hunting the demon by yourself."  
Angel looked a little sheepish as he answered, "I didn't hunt the demon... not exactly. I went for a walk and it attacked me. What was I suppossed to do, let it get away?"  
"Yeah, now there's an idea," said Cordelia sharply.  
"You could have at least called us on your cellphone...," Wesley paused at Angel's expression. "Did you remember that you had it?"  
Angel paused and searched his coat. It was a few seconds before he managed to even find it.  
  
"Alright, I'm sorry," said Angel at last. "It won't happen again."  
"You're right, it won't. You can't do that to us...," began Cordelia.  
"Okay, I get it. I won't make you guys worry again," interupted Angel.  
"Well, good."  
Cordelia marched into the next room and with no small amount of relief, Angel flopped on the couch. Wesley walked up to him.  
"Angel, it took you all night just to hunt the demon?"  
  
Angel looked up at him, checking Cordelia was out of earshot before he answered, "No. Before I killed the demon it attacked one of those commandos Buffy was telling me about. I was going to tell Buffy about it but then an entire patrol of them got attacked by these werewolves..."  
Angel yawned and stretched out on the couch.  
  
"You realise when you didn't return, Cordelia and I went out to search for you. We found some action of our own... there is more than one atashak demon in Sunnydale. In fact, from what we saw there's at least ten of them," said Wesley, cleaning his glasses like he always did when he was nervous. "We fell into a nest of them and were lucky to get out alive."  
"Then we stay in Sunnydale until we've gotten them all," answered Angel sleepily.  
Wesley dipped his head in aggrement but when he looked up, Angel's eyes were closed.  
"Angel?"  
When he didn't get a reply he covered Angel with a blanket and left the room, hoping the smell of roof mould wouldn't wake him up again.  
  
In a less dark and damp but equally covert setting, the Initiative continued to work with efficiency. The routine had been shifted slightly to include the funeral of their fallen companion. After three days of inquiry and formal explanations, Dr Walsh finally got the opportunity to talk directly to her men. She stood before them, her chin raised not by height but by university degrees.  
"Alright gentlemen," she began sternly. "I want to hear the full story, your official reports were hesitant and sketchy. You have more information? I want to hear it."  
Forrest began, "Three nights ago, Agent Graham Millar witnessed two hostiles engaged in a fight."  
"Any idea why?"  
Forrest shook his head, "One was the previously unknown species that we brought in. The other was a vampire. Agent Millar contacted Lilac one..."  
"I've already heard all that," said Dr Walsh testily.  
"If I may interupt?" asked Graham.  
"Agent Millar?"  
"I believe the vampire may have been trying to protect me. Later on, C Team testified that he saved the life of a civillian."  
  
Dr Walsh made no attempt to hide her irritation, "C team's report was inconclusive. That is simply an assumption."  
"True but, what about you, Forrest?"  
"Agent Gates?" asked Dr Walsh, switching her attention.  
Forrest shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "None of my team have admitted firing the shot that brought down the second werewolf. Agent Millar's blaster was stolen by the vampire and when we recovered it, it showed signs of having recently been fired. It's likely the vampire did it, it's just nobody saw him doing it."  
  
"Where is that vampire now?" asked Dr Walsh, tiring of the subject.  
"He was trailed by C team to a shopping complex. When he moved again, he passed the Bronze - that's where the incident they reported occured. They then trailed him to a vacant mansion, where he's been staying since."  
"I trust there's a good reason for not bringing him in, I don't like dangerous creatures roaming my streets, gentlemen."  
Another one of the soldiers from Forest's team spoke up, "Maam, there is a potential for the situation to change, that's why surveillance has been going around the clock."  
  
Satisfied with that answer, Dr Walsh moved on, "Anything else we know about him?"  
"He's atypical for a vampire, maam," said Forrest.  
"How so?"  
"Firstly, his lives in a building. Not unheard of but not the established norm of vampire in sewers. Secondly, we have never seen him associate with other vampires, except in combat. He has two companions who are both human. One Cordelia Chase who grew up in Sunnydale, current residence in Los Angeles, and Wesley Pryce, an English national who lived briefly in Sunnydale before moving to Los Angeles. Thirdly, each night, he's been seen hunting the same kind of hostile that originally attacked Agent Millar."  
"Not to mention the butcher's account," added Graham.  
"The butcher?" said Dr Walsh.  
"Yes, maam. We tracked him to a butcher's store where he made a purchase. We obtained some details from the butcher. He's known the vampire for four years but we're assuming he's unaware of the fact that he is a vampire. According to him, this 'customer' of his goes under the name of Angel. Orders a fairly regular supply of fresh pigs blood. At one stage, the customer just disappeared for a while and the butcher thought he had been cheated because a minor debt was left unpaid. Later, a blonde woman of approximately eighteen or seventeen years began to purchase blood and pay off the debt. She claimed Angel had been sick and she did not realise that there was a debt to be paid off. He returns and purchases blood again on a regular basis until the end of last year, when he leaves town. He wasn't seen again until the day we tracked him to the butcher store. He's apparently said he's on a business visit."  
  
Dr Walsh considered this, "He's unaware he's being trailed. He may be showing you what you wish to see."  
"It is possible," agreed Forrest.  
"Alright, tail him for one more day, then bring him in."  
  
Dr Walsh, a university professor of psychology and the senior scientist at the Initiative, watched her boys leave with a certain amount of anxiety. Frowning, she returned to her work station. Dr Inggelman appeared behind her, a cup of coffee in his outstretched hand. She took it with a brief smile.  
"So," he prompted. "What's your opinion on the vampire?"  
"I'm not sure," she told him honestly. "None of them want to commit to saying the vampire isn't dangerous but they keep hinting at it. There's also..."  
"What?" asked Dr Inggelman.  
"You heard the report?"  
Dr Inggelman nodded and pointed to the listening piece in his ear. Dr Walsh contined, "The butcher identifies one of his companions as a young blonde woman."  
"The woman with him now could have dyed her hair."  
  
Dr Walsh shook her head, "I'm thinking blonde girl, probably about nineteen now, who might still live in Sunnydale and might have cause to associate with vampires. Do you know how long the Slayer has lived here?"  
"You think it's her? We can get a photograph to the butcher to confirm that. In the meantime, do you want to bring Agent Finn in on this mission?"  
Dr Walsh looked up sharply at the mention of her favourite teacher's aid. She considered a moment before answering, "No. He can keep an eye on the Slayer and it will give Gates and Millar a chance to demonstrate some leadership ability."  
"If that's your decision."  
"It is."  
Dr Inggelman left to return to his science team down in the pit. Dr Walsh leant back in her chair, tapping her fingers against the sides of her coffee mug. She shrugged off an uneasy feeling before focusing on what she was paid to do. The day continued as usual, the sun went down and the monsters emerged. Forrest and Graham, dressed in civillian clothes, led a team to replace the one who had been watching Angel all day.  
  
As per usual, their topic of conversation was far from their task.  
"I can't believe Ri didn't show," complained Forrest.  
"Give Riley a break," said Graham gently. "With a girl like Buffy, he's bound to forget a few promises."  
"A few? This is the fourth time he's said he'll meet us at the Bronze and not shown!"  
"You're saying you don't enjoy being team leader in his absence?"  
Forrest turned to glare at him, "Stop changing the subject. It's just not right... wait, we've got some movement."  
Graham fell silent. As the team watched, Angel and Wesley left the mansion in a car. Cordelia stood on the top of the stairs to watch them leave. The patrol piled into Riley's car. They followed the impressive convertible into the dark part of town. The car slowed down outside a cheap bar with Willy's Place written over the top in neon lights. The patrons in the place slinked and slided in the doorway, as if not even normal movement was permitted.  
  
Angel got out of the car and approached the bar, scattering the patrons like a load of cockroaches. Wesley drove the car on again. The team parked the car in a nearby alleyway, waiting for Forrest's decision.  
"Taggart, you're with me. The rest of you hold position in case he doubles back. Reid and Stabros, go around and see if there's an exit around the back. Use your radios only as a last resort."  
Graham noticed with chagrin that he wasn't accompanying Forrest and was the last to get out of the car. Before leaving, Forrest couldn't resist one last word, "Try not to get yourselves killed as soon as yours truly is out of sight."  
Graham grunted in response as Forrest and Kevin Taggart strolled into the bar. The remaining marines spread out along the street. Graham ended up on the far street corner, pausing to stare randomly at shop windows whenever a stranger walked past him.  
  
A car alarm went off in the distance. Wesley sprinted away from a parked car at the other end of the street. On reflex, half the team set off in pursuit. Graham was the furtherest away, which was why none of the other soldiers noticed Angel appearing on the far sidewalk behind them. They didn't see him seize an unsuspecting Graham from behind. With a hand placed firmly over Graham's mouth to stifle his cry, Angel dragged him out of sight and shoved him against a wall.   
  
"Alright, to cut a long story short, I don't like being followed everywhere I go," said Angel.  
He released his grip on Graham and took a couple of steps back.  
"We all have to do things we don't want, sometimes," said Graham carefully, rubbing his jaw.  
Angel grunted, "Yeah well, funnily enough, I'm getting sick of it. So, tell whoever it is you work for, that I am not amused. I don't want you getting in my way in the middle of the crisis."  
Graham opened his mouth to retort but Angel grabbed him roughly and threw him to the ground. When Graham looked up, Angel was gone. Graham released the breath he'd been holding and wandered back into the street to tell the others what had happened. By the time he got there, an annoyed Forrest was waiting for him.  
"What the hell happened to you?"  
  
Worried that the vampire was targetting him, for the following two nights Graham's superiors sent him on routine, even mundane patrols in an attempt to keep him away from Angel. Angel was still tailed by a patrol but he began to periodically loose them, irritated by their presence. It took three nights before Graham and Forrest found themselves on the same mission. Their team was sent to the cemetery to prevent the rising of a new vampire. It was only ten o'clock when the soil on the grave began to move. It was not new to them and the vampire was staked without an incident.  
"Alright, let's go," Forrest told the team.  
"What was that noise?" bellowed a strange voice.  
  
The entire patrol hit the dirt, backing up against tombstones with their blasters at the ready. There was the sound of someone approaching.  
"You're imagining things," answered a raspy voice.  
"I am not," replied the first voice. "I suppose next you'll be telling me the demon hunter that killed Tharg was in my imagination, too."  
"Oh no," said a third voice. "The demon hunter is real alright. That's why we have to deal with him tonight - the sooner, the better."  
There were murmurs of agreement. Graham manoeuvred his infa-red scanner about until he could get a reading from behind the tombstone. He held up nine fingers to Forrest, to indicate nine demons. The group of demons argued about the demon hunter for a few minutes before moving away. As they did, the patrol moved out of hiding.  
  
"What do you think about this demon hunter?" whispered Graham.  
"The demons lead us to him. He could be friendly to our cause," decided Forrest.  
"Like the Slayer?" asked Graham.  
Forrest grunted, his dislike for Riley's newest girlfriend once again surfacing.  
"If those demons go anywhere near populated areas...," said Forrest. "We kill every one of them."  
The patrol moved out, easily trailing the noisy, disorganised Atashak demons. The demons carried an almost homemade assortment of weapons, among them several blades tied to handles with fishing line, a stolen fireaxe and a collection of molotov cocktails in glass softdrink bottles. They had almost wandered the whole length of the cemetery when one demon jabbed the other in the side. At the first demon's insistence, all the demons stopped to sniff the air. They seemed to have caught a scent. The demons changed direction sharply, their body language revealing that they had found their prey. They were aiming straight for a mausoleum. As the patrol crept closer, even the patrol could hear the sounds of a struggle and the snarling of one... no, two vampires.  
  
The atashak demons waited, low to the ground. One held a cigarette lighter to a molotov cocktail and hurled it through the slightly ajar door to the crypt. There was the sound of an explosion and then the roar of a vampire as it died. Smoke began to curl out the crypt doorway. Coughing, Angel stumbled out, bent over and on the point of collapse. The atashak demons attacked but Angel was not as unprepared as he looked. He stopped mid-cough to straighten up and deck the first two who came at him. He swiftly disarmed the third and used it's weapon to continue the fight. Within a few minutes he'd killed two of them and wounded another that crawled away from the fight. The wounded demon crawled straight into the Initiative patrol who finished it off.  
"Do we join in or not?" Graham asked Forrest urgently.  
"Wait," began Forrest. "...Oh, what the hell!"  
The patrol charged at the demons, killing some of them even as they were preparing to throw more molotov cocktails. While they fought, two of the atashak demons (one with a makeshift spear and the other with the stolen axe) pushed Angel backwards into the crypt. In the confined space, Angel was forced to start dodging. The patrol finished off the ragtag Atashak demons without casualties. Forrest and Graham slipped forward to see what was happening in the crypt. Angel was holding his own and once again, there was something familiar to Graham about the way the vampire fought. Some of his moves were based on technique but some were just pure brute force that almost knocked his opponents offbalance.  
  
Finally, Angel managed to run through one of the demons with it's own spear. In that split second of distraction the second demon swung at him with the axe. Angel didn't see the axe coming and doubled over as it embedded in his stomach. The momentum of the swing unsteadied his feet and he fell, still gripping the end of the spear with the demon impaled on the end. A taser blast enveloped the surviving demon, slamming it into the wall. Angel watched it in a sort of dreamy haze as Forrest approached him. Angel's eyes were half-closed but his bloody hands twitched every couple of seconds. Forrest remained suspiscious and not without good reason.  
"You think he's our demon hunter?" asked Graham, coming up behind him.  
"He can't tell us if he's dead," muttered Forrest.  
"How much vampire first aid do you know?" asked another of the marines.  
"Not much," admitted Graham.  
"So then, we'll just have to take him to someone who does," said Forrest.  
"Control?" said the marine, uncertain.  
"Hey look, you have a better idea?" demanded Forrest. "Looks like we get to bring him in, anyway."  
  
TO BE CONTINUED... 


	2. Into the Lion's Den

DISCLAIMER : All Buffy : The Vampire Slayer and ANGEL characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and Fox Studios. No copyright infringement intended, just a chance to share with my fellow fans and absolutely no money profit is gained on the part of the author. (Prior to the Buffy episode 'The I in Team').   
PG-13. SUMMARY : An injured Angel is a prisoner of the Initiative.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
BC : BEFORE CHILDREN  
Into the Lion's Den  
  
Cordelia leapt on the vampire's back, clinging desperately. The vampire reached up to pull her off and while his hands were busy, Wesley staked him. As the vampire crumbled into dust, Cordelia fell straight through him onto the grass. Ever the gentleman, Wesley helped her to her feet. Wincing, Cordelia began to examine her clothes.  
"I'd really be more concerned about those grazes than your latest fashions," said Wesley.  
She stopped to glare at him before replying, "I'm trying to get vampire ashes out of my skirt. Thank god I thought to wear an old one."  
"Ah," said Wesley. "An old one. You mean you've only worn it twice?"  
"Very funny."  
"Yes, I thought so."  
  
Cordelia looked around her, "We're not in the cemetery anymore. We better find Angel."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Why wouldn't we want to find Angel?" frowned Cordelia.  
"No, I meant are you sure we're not in the cemetery. How can you tell? It's just more gardens."  
"Well, the fact that the cemetery entrance is over there is a big pointer."  
"Oh right. Let's go, then, shall we?"  
Wesley set off with Cordelia lagging behind.  
"Will you hurry up?" asked Wesley, stopping.  
Cordelia was about to retort when there was a rumbling sound from the cemetery.  
  
"What was that?" asked Cordelia.  
"Sounded like an explosion."  
"Angel!"  
Wesley reached the cemetery gates first. He bounced off the ornate iron, finding it shut and locked. He recovered with minimal embarrassment and was already half way over the fence before Cordelia and her high heels caught up to him. Gingerly, she followed his lead. Wesley reached the bottom of the fence and in the act of springing to the ground, got his foot caught in between the bars. He tumbled headfirst onto the grass, his foot still wedged firmly in the fence. Cordelia tumbled to the ground a couple of inches in front of him and scrambled to her feet painfully.   
  
In the distance, there was more sound. Not distinct enough to be identifiable but loud enough to be worrisome.  
"What kind of demon makes that noise?" asked Cordelia, tugging Wesley's foot free.  
"None I've ever seen... or heard."  
They hurried to the source of the sound. The sound of voices gave them ample warning to duck behind a tombstone before the soldiers saw them. Wesley and Cordelia flattened their backs against it, treading on the flowers that some family member had left.  
"Oh my," whispered Wesley, peering at the flowers. "Nancy's Petticoat. These were named for the famous author..."  
  
He became aware of Cordelia's incredulous expression and shut his mouth abruptly.  
"Where's Angel at a time like this?" asked Cordelia.  
She fell silent as more soldiers passed by.  
Wesley shrugged, "Buffy said the commandos use infa-red detectors. That makes them a threat to Angel. The smart thing would be for him to disappear as soon as they arrived."  
"Angel bail on us?" asked Cordelia. "I don't think so. What if the GI Joes have him?"  
  
Wesley peered around the edge of the tombstone. The soldiers were dragging dead or unconscious Atashak demons into a military issue truck.  
"This is not an ideal situation...," began Wesley.  
"No kidding."  
"... but I think we have to assume Angel has escaped by himself. We should return to the car."  
"I don't think that's a good idea."  
  
Ignoring her objections, Wesley darted stealthily to the next tombstone. Left alone, Cordelia panicked.  
"Wesley!" she hissed. "Come back!"  
She stifled her next protest as soldiers walked past them. After the soldiers had moved on, he motioned for Cordelia to join him.  
Cordelia shook her head, "No!"  
"Come on."  
Shaking her head in frustration and squeezing her eyes shut, Cordelia dived between the tombstones. With the soldiers looking the other way, Wesley and Cordelia fled the cemetery. One of the soldiers registered the sound of high heels on concrete but there was nothing to see and he went to report it to his superior officer. Wesley boosted Cordelia up the fence, letting her find her own way to the ground on the other side. Wesley followed, a little more dignified than last time.  
  
They didn't glance behind them once in the sprint to the almost deserted carpark. Wesley slumped against the side of the convertible. Cordelia stopped and looked around them. There was no Angel waiting for them, there wasn't even any other cars in the lot.  
"This is just great. We're in the middle of a dark cemetery..." began Cordelia.  
"At the outskirts of, actually."  
"Wesley, shut up."  
  
***  
  
Dr Walsh paused in mid-step to watch her boys receiving special instructions from Dr Inggelman. She assumed a successful mission, she expected no less from anyone under her command. She noticed again Riley's absence but Dr Inggelman had control over assignments. Riley was better served where he was, keeping an eye on the unpredictable Slayer. Riley's presence in the Initiative could be spared until they were more sure of the Slayer's loyalties. For the moment, Dr Walsh had other duties to attend to. She ran her security card through the slot in the wall and keyed in her personal code. The door permitted access to the secured research area.  
  
Full of research labs and experiments, it was a place for operating without being in full view of the entire Initiative. It was strictly on a need-to-know basis. The decision to place hostile 23 in here was due partly to the fact that it's injuries were severe. Mainly, it was because the pit (as they called their experimental open surgery theatre) was already filled to capacity.  
  
The Initiative had been lucky this time. Hostile 23 had regained consciousness after a couple of hours. With no pulse or measurable brain activity, vampires were difficult to monitor when they were unconscious or in comas. Dr Walsh had performed several experiments but she had yet to find a formula they could inject intravenously. Flipping through the relevant file, Dr Walsh entered the make-shift hospital room. The room was regimental in it's design, a carbon copy of every single other room in the secured area. The bed was just as ordinary, nothing more than necessary. Some of the other scientists argued that the ropes tying an unconscious Hostile 23 to the bed was excessive but Dr Walsh believed in taking precautions.   
  
"How are we today?" asked Dr Walsh, deliberately loud.  
The hostile's eyes flickered open but he made no sign he'd heard her. Dr Walsh took a few slow, measured steps forward to make sure he could see her.  
"I have some questions I'd like to ask you," she said clearly.  
The hostile turned his head to gaze at her, as if he hadn't registered the question. Dr Walsh was tempted to believe he didn't understand and to turn and walk out but his eyes gave him away. He was too focused on her, as if listening. Dr Walsh concealed her frustration as any good professional and walked even closer to the bed. She leaned over him, meeting his penetrating gaze.  
"Do you not speak English or are you deliberately trying to irritate me?"  
  
The stare wavered a bit but there was no response. Dr Walsh sighed inwardly and turned away from him.  
"By my logic," began a quavering voice.  
Dr Walsh smothered a triumphant smile before turning to face the hostile.  
"Words are often more likely to offend than silence," he finished.  
"Debatable, " said Dr Walsh, her eyebrow raised.  
"But known to work in some situations," said the hostile.  
"At least we know you can communicate."  
"I have been known to from time to time."  
  
Dr Walsh folded her arms, "I've been hearing a lot about you."  
"Really?" asked the hostile, bored.  
"Among other things, you're supposed to be a demon hunter."  
The hostile's eyes focused on her, "That's true."  
Dr Walsh couldn't help her reaction - her eyebrow raised itself.  
"You hunt demons?"  
"Yes, that would tend to go with being a demon hunter."  
"You are a demon yourself."  
With a jerk the hostile raised his head from the pillow, "Not by choice."  
  
Dr Walsh snapped back from the sudden outburst but the effort seemed to have exhausted him and he flopped back onto the pillow, eyes closed. She leant forward and checked the restraints holding him to the bed.  
"Since we're being so chatty, what do you do?" he whispered, eyes still closed.  
Dr Walsh straightened up, defensive again, "I stop demons being dangerous."  
"Demons like me?"  
"Yes, demons like you."  
  
As the strength returned to the hostile's voice, so did Dr Walsh's confidence.  
"Why were you following Agent Millar?" she asked, her voice taking on a cold edge.  
"Who?"  
"Agent Graham Millar. You saved him from the Kuria demon and you later threatened him in an alleyway."  
The hostile opened his eyes and turned to her, his expression confused, "Kuria demon? I don't think I know that type."  
Dr Walsh bit back the urge to say what came into her head first. She straightened up before continuing.  
  
"This one you'd remember - black, furry, four-legged like a canine. One of them caught you in the stomach with an axe."  
"You mean an Atashak demon?" asked the hostile. "I saved a commando from one of those."  
"Atashak demon?" asked Dr Walsh, pausing.  
"That's what it's called," explained the hostile, hiding his amusement badly. "I can't believe you renamed it."  
"Atashak, Kuria, whatever. Why were you following Agent Millar?"  
"I wasn't. It was co-incidence. He has a habit of being a lone target when I'm about."  
"Yes. He also has a certain naiveness which I don't appreciate you taking advantage of."  
"Really?" asked the hostile sarcastically.  
"Really," answered Dr Walsh, not used to being mocked.  
"Lucky him."  
  
"I am very serious," said Dr Walsh. "I'm prepared to go to any lengths necessary to protect my boys."  
"From me?"  
"That would be the general idea."  
"I'm flattered," he said dryly. "I hope your boys are... worth this."  
If possible, he seemed to have gone even paler, his eyes unfocused and he sunk back into the pillow.  
"Dizzy?" inquired Dr Walsh.  
"What?" he asked distantly.  
"Are you dizzy?" she repeated.  
"Hell no," he said sarcastically. "Happens all the time."  
Dr Walsh had to strain to hear him, his voice getting weaker.  
  
***  
  
Buffy's voice was lost in the smoke. Willow and Tara continued to chant, Willow giving Buffy an odd look. Buffy waved hello weakly at her and picked her way through the herbs and scented candles to her bedside table. She grabbed her jacket and made her way back to the door. Buffy waved at the two witches again before sneaking out of their dorm room. Riley was waiting in the hall. Smoke wafted to his nose before Buffy managed to shut the door again. She replugged up the gaps around the door, with the wet towels. The smoke stopped curling up to the ceiling.  
Riley coughed, "What are they doing in there? They could cause a fire."  
"They're doing a spell," shrugged Buffy. "Trust me, they're safe and they probably wouldn't appreciate the disturbance."  
She wrapped her jacket loosely around her shoulders.  
  
"You're going to be late for class if you don't hurry," said Riley, glancing at his watch.  
"Like that's a big loss," smiled Buffy.  
They began to walk down the hall but they hadn't gone more than a metre when the fire exit burst open and Cordelia and Wesley staggered into the building. They didn't seem to notice that they had set off the fire alarm. Students instantly flooded the hall and Buffy could just hear Willow swearing about the interruption. Cordelia and Wesley managed to wade through the sudden crowd to reach Buffy and Riley.  
"Are you guys okay?" asked Buffy, concerned. "What happened?"  
Cordelia's elbows were grazed and her hair resembled a bird's nest. Wesley was covered in twigs and vampire ashes.  
"We have a problem," said Cordelia. "It's about Angel."  
Buffy froze, all thoughts of class evaporating.  
"What's going on?" asked Willow irritably, emerging from the dorm room she shared with Buffy.  
Tara peered tentatively over her shoulder.  
"Angel?" repeated Buffy.  
  
"I think we need your help," said Wesley.  
"You want me to round up Giles and Xander?" asked Willow.  
When Buffy didn't answer, Cordelia nodded to Willow. Willow turned to Tara, "Tara, we're going to have to..."  
"Cut the day short? It's okay," smiled Tara.  
Tara and Willow disappeared back into the dorm room.  
"I wouldn't ask, except it is an emergency - can I borrow some clothes?" asked Cordelia, looking at her trashed outfit in dismay. "I know your wardrobe will only be marginally better but..."  
Buffy nodded and pointed to her dorm room. Cordelia nodded in thanks and limped in that direction.  
Wesley smiled uncomfortably at Riley. Riley smiled back and turned to Buffy.  
"Who's Angel?"  
Buffy's expression was akin to a cow looking at an oncoming train.  
  
***  
  
Dr Walsh leant over the railing that lined the top of the Pit.  
"Dr Inggelman!" she shouted.  
Dr Inggelman looked up from instructing one of his aides and nodded. Dr Walsh moved back to her workstation to wait for him. He appeared by her side a minute later.  
"Doctor?" he asked. "What is it?"  
"I wanted to talk to you about hostile 23."  
"Our infamously friendly vampire, what about him?" asked Dr Inggelman. "Have you made a decision yet? Do you want to try inserting an implant?"  
"No, not yet anyway," said Dr Walsh slowly. "I want to know what he's been doing. I talked to him just now."  
  
"What did you talk about?"  
"Things... mostly threats, actually. I wonder if there was anything abnormal about him? Anything I hadn't already heard?"  
"As if the reports of Agent Millar and C Team weren't abnormal enough?" Dr Inggelman smiled thinly. "His recovery rate is as expected from a vampire but there is one abnormality. Possibly a contaminated sample, I haven't had time to follow it up, yet."  
"What?"  
"In vampires we have the Campbell effect - which is all the signs of dead blood cells but none of the symptoms they usually cause. In hostile 23, not all the cells are dead."  
"Impossible," exclaimed Dr Walsh. "Part of vampire physiology depends on the Campbell effect in the blood. There isn't... there isn't any blood flow is there?"  
"No," said Dr Inggelman quickly. "And it's not all his blood, just a small portion. It could be part of the healing process, some kind of antibody or a by product of whatever it is he usually feeds on."  
  
Dr Walsh bit her lip and looked around, worried someone had overheard them.  
"What he usually feeds on? I think it's time we found out," she said, releasing her lip. "I want his stomach pumped. The sooner, the better."  
"Are you sure?" asked Dr Inggelman. "It's going to be messy and it'll make him aggressive."  
"Can you think of a better way to find out what he usually feeds on?" asked Dr Walsh.  
Dr Inggelman conceded her point, "Alright, I'll take care of it."  
"Good."  
  
***  
  
"Angel! Angel, where are you?" Cordelia called.  
The search party had been sent out now that Angel had been missing for two entire days. Xander bumped into her from behind.  
"Hey, watch it, moron," she snapped.  
"Sorry, oh, how could I be so shallow as to violate your personal space?" he asked sarcastically.  
"Ha, I bet you did that on purpose..."  
"Guys?" asked Willow tentatively. "Can we focus here? You know, missing Buffy boyfriend?"  
"Ex-boyfriend," Riley corrected from somewhere to the left.  
"Sorry, I meant to say ex," said Willow.  
  
"Hey, Angel is that... eeek!" screeched Tara, from somewhere behind Willow.  
"Tara?" called Willow. "Tara, are you alright?"  
"Um, yeah, i-i-it was just a bunny rabbit. Sort of, um, surprised me," answered Tara sheepishly.  
"A bunny?" asked Anya nervously. "Where did it go?  
She flashed her torch around the bushes in search of the offending rabbit. Xander was reminded of a certain Halloween where Anya had admitted to a fear of such creatures. This looked like a job for the boyfriend.  
"It's probably gone by now. More afraid of you than you were of it," said Xander, wrapping an arm around Anya's shoulder. The two began to talk in whispers as they moved away from the others. A couple of seconds later, there was a scream.  
"What is it?" yelled Cordelia.  
Anya's emotionless voice drifted back to them, "Come on, Xander. It's just a rat. I'm not afraid of rats... I mean, it's not even anything like a bunnyrabbit."  
Cordelia rolled her eyes and walked on.  
  
Wesley's voice came from just out of sight, "I know Angel can look after himself, I just hope he's alright."  
"Now is not exactly the best time for him to be visiting Sunnydale," replied Buffy.  
"Angel has been known to disappear sometimes, yes?" asked Giles.  
"He wouldn't leave Cordelia and Wesley out in the open," said Buffy. "Angel could have been involved with the Atashak demons... or he could have run into the Initiative."  
"It looked as if some kind of battle went on there," admitted Wesley. "But I didn't see Angel, just Atashak demons."  
"Maybe I should ask Professor Walsh," suggested Riley.  
"I don't think so," disagreed Buffy quickly. "I mean, Angel is... I don't think he would get on with Professor Walsh. In fact, the further we keep Angel away from the Initiative the better."  
  
***  
  
"Good morning," said Dr Walsh, entering the research lab with Dr Inggelman on her heels.  
Angel didn't open his eyes, "How are your boys this morning?"  
Dr Walsh heard the sarcasm in the remark but chose to ignore it, "They are just fine."  
"That's good to hear," he said, sounding sincere but then his tone changed. "I would say it's nice to see you except we both know that's not true. And I don't think I can stomach lies this early in the morning."  
Dr Walsh noted the rather pointed reference to the stomach pump he'd recently experienced. By all accounts, a thoroughly unpleasant procedure.  
"Well, you'll be glad to hear it wasn't totally pointless. We found what we were looking for," she said.  
"And what was that?" asked Angel.  
"Your stomach contents consists entirely of pigs' blood - not human..." began Dr Walsh, reading off her clipboard.  
Angel's eyes opened and he gazed at her incredulously, "I could have told you that!"  
"Maybe," said Dr Walsh. "But we had no way of telling whether or not you were lying."  
  
"At any rate," interrupted Dr Inggelman. "We still don't know for sure."  
"What do you mean?" asked Angel.  
"All we know is that you haven't fed on human blood for at least the last couple of days," said Dr Inggelman. "In that time, most of the blood you'd had before coming into our possession would have been digested. You could have made sure that was what we'd find... "  
Angel's eyes narrowed and Dr Walsh intervened with a question, "Assuming you do feed on pigs' blood, why make that choice?"  
  
"Well, hypothetically speaking, someone else might have made that choice for me," said Angel levelly.  
"Why would they do that?" asked Dr Walsh.  
"I might have pissed them off," answered Angel curtly.  
Dr Inggelman looked at Angel warily, the way a man with a hangover regards a beer. Dr Walsh could tell Dr Inggelman was rapidly losing interest in the conversation.  
"Hypothetically speaking," said Dr Walsh, ignoring the glares Angel and Dr Inggelman were exchanging. "Who would that someone be?"  
"Romani."  
At Dr Walsh's slight pause, he added, "Gypsies."  
"I see," said Dr Inggelman. "You want us to believe that someone completely ordinary... just in off the street, managed to do what we've been trying..."  
"I thought this was hypothetical," Angel interrupted him coolly.  
"What exactly did these gypsies do, hypothetically?" asked Dr Walsh quickly.  
  
Angel was quiet for a minute before answering, "A curse."  
"Some voodoo man gave you bad luck?" asked Dr Inggelman, amused.  
"Dr Inggelman, could you give me a minute alone please?" asked Dr Walsh firmly, not taking her eyes from Angel. Dr Inggelman stopped mid-tirade, clearly shocked, but left the room and amazingly managed to restrain himself from slamming the door. Dr Walsh turned back to Angel who was regarding her suspiciously.  
"Could you be more specific?" asked Dr Walsh, sounding polite and friendly.  
"Look," said Angel. "Professionals like you aren't going to believe what I believe but seeing as the people who did this to me are long dead, you won't be getting a labelled diagram any time soon."  
"Fair enough," said Dr Walsh. "You can't say for sure what they did but I'm sure you believe something happened?"  
"Alright, simply put... they gave me a human soul. I can't... I tried but I can't kill in cold blood without my conscience getting the better of me."  
Angel spoke as if it were an old tale and he had better things to be doing. There was something final in his tone.  
"Thankyou, it's been interesting talking to you," she said politely.  
"Ha!"  
  
Dr Inggelman was waiting for her outside in the corridor.  
"Well?" he asked bitterly. "I hope my departure was useful."  
"The story seems a little convoluted, I'll agree, but I think someone did affect him. I'm just not sure what they did... or how long ago," said Dr Walsh. "It could have been a simple case of mental reconditioning or some brand of behaviour modification. If these creatures have been around as long as they claim to have been, there's no reason that someone else shouldn't have noticed and have taken steps."  
"You think he really doesn't feed on humans?" asked Dr Inggelman.  
"Hard to tell," said Dr Walsh, shaking her head. "From the way he speaks, I'd be inclined to believe him but it may be an elaborate act. I doubt he knows much about the detail of what they did to him so I doubt he'll be able to help us find them. He may actually be trustworthy."  
"Are you serious? Even if you're completely convinced, are you willing to risk releasing him where he could harm the public?"  
"I didn't say that. I'll wait before I have to make that decision."  
  
***  
  
Buffy dumped her newly torn sweater into the wicker basket at the bottom of her closet. She was about to close the door again when something caught her eye. Hanging at the back, behind most of her clothes was a black leather jacket. A lump caught in her throat as she remembered who had given her that jacket. She couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch it. To remember the smell and feel of... She turned her back on the closet, dismissing painful thoughts. She was in the act of walking towards the door when an idea struck her. She leant across her bed to reach her bedside table. A few seconds of rummaging around in the drawer was all it took to find what she was looking for.  
  
***  
  
Dr Moore was jabbing helplessly at the control panel to one of the labs in the secured area. Dr Walsh sighed and walked over to her.  
"Dr Moore," she said.  
Dr Moore, an inexperienced but qualified scientist, had a history of getting lost.  
"Dr Moore," said Dr Walsh. "That's not the way out."  
"Sorry, doctor," Dr Moore blushed.  
Dr Walsh pointed to the end of the corridor, "Down there, turn left. Sixth door on your right."  
Dr Moore nodded, turning even redder, and walked stiffly down the corridor.  
  
Dr Walsh shook her head, worrying that if Dr Moore didn't become more professional, Dr Inggelman might fire her. If that happened, Dr Walsh would fight to just have her reassigned elsewhere. Despite her faults, Dr Moore had the brains and ability as a surgeon. It would be a terrible waste of talent. Dr Walsh was barely down the corridor when muttering became audible from behind one of the locked doors. Dr Walsh sighed, again. She turned on her heel and went to the source of the noise. She slid her keycard through the slot and pushed the door open without noticing which room it was.  
"Dr Moore...," she began.  
She stopped when she realised Dr Moore was not in the room. The muttering was coming from hostile 23. He was asleep but muttering to himself and turning about as much as he could while tied to the bed. Most of it wasn't understandable but she clearly caught the words "mustn't" and "no" repeatedly.  
  
She approached the bed, looking him up and down. She placed her hand across his forehead to gauge his temperature but he woke at the touch of her fingertips. It took a few seconds for his eyes to focus and he was breathing heavily. Dr Walsh always found that amusing, vampires had no need to breath at all but due to some ingrained memory from when they were alive, they often went through the motions anyway. Swallowing hard, hostile 23 took time to compose himself. When he had, he looked up at Dr Walsh and said simply, "Nightmare."  
Dr Walsh's expression remained neutral and she turned to go.  
"Thanks," he said.  
Dr Walsh walked out of the room as if she hadn't heard him.  
  
***  
  
"Buffy, don't lose hope," said Riley, putting his hand over hers.  
When she didn't respond, Riley wondered if in the din of the cafeteria, she hadn't heard him. He was about to repeat himself when Buffy shrugged.  
"Buffy, I'm sure he's fine. Give him another day or two," Riley said gently. "He's just forgotten to call you."  
"Not much chance of that, really."  
"You're sure there's no reason he wouldn't... you know, not want to be found?"  
Buffy looked up from her untouched food to look at Riley with exhausted eyes.  
"What is there for him to get away from? That's why he went to Los Angeles," she said.  
  
"Buffy, come on," said Riley, feeling Buffy's lethargy begin to affect him. "Let me get the whole Initiative behind us. If they can't find him, no one can."  
"No. You can't bring the Initiative into this," said Buffy quickly.  
Riley sighed in defeat and began to play with the rest of his lunch. Buffy pushed her plate away.  
"Buffy?"  
"I'm not really that hungry."  
"Are you sure?" asked Riley.  
She nodded, "I'm going to go photocopy this... maybe someone will recognise him."  
"Okay," said Riley.  
  
Riley watched as Buffy shuffled out of the cafeteria, taking the photograph she'd refused to show him, and leaving her food behind her. Riley left his fork on his plate, his appetite leaving with her. He spotted Forrest and Graham out of the corner of his eye. The three friends hadn't eaten lunch together in a while, in fact, hadn't done anything together in a while. He picked up his tray of food and walked over to them.  
"Hi guys. Mind if I sit down?" he asked cheerfully.  
"It's a free country," replied Forrest tensely.  
"Sit down, Riley," said Graham, smiling.  
"Where the hell you been, man?" asked Forrest. "You haven't been downstairs in ages."  
"Well... I've been busy but they haven't paged me anyway," said Riley.  
"They haven't paged you? Are you kidding? It's been the god damn rush hour down there, all week!" said Forrest. "You're always the first one they call."  
Riley shrugged, "Maybe my pager is broken."  
"Maybe they're just trying to give other guys a chance to be team leader?" suggested Graham.  
Forrest glared at Graham even as he turned to answer Riley.  
  
"You should go down and ask the Professor," said Forrest.  
"It's true you haven't been around much, lately, Riley," said Graham. "Though at the moment, you look as though you could use the sleep."  
Riley yawned, "I've sort of had other things on my mind."  
Forrest rolled his eyes and turned to Graham, "Three guesses what that boy is thinking with."  
Riley tried to smother a smile before defending himself.  
"It's not like that Forrest," said Riley. "A friend of Buffy's has disappeared and we've been out searching for him."  
"Him?" asked Forrest, pointedly.  
"Missing?" asked Graham, ignoring Forrest's jibe. "Any idea what happened to him? Maybe we can help?"  
  
"No, Buffy doesn't want the Initiative in on this," said Riley. "Apparently, he was some kind of demon hunter and she thought the Professor wouldn't get on with him."  
"A demon hunter?" asked Forrest, thinking about their recent encounter with just such a person.  
"Yeah," said Riley. "What, you think we're the only ones who hunt demons? I used to think so but not since I met Buffy. There's an incredible world out there."  
"She told the police?" asked Graham.  
"No but if it was a demon that got him, the police wouldn't be much help," said Riley. "She's pretty upset about it, actually. We were up all night searching. I practically had to drag Buffy back to her dorm room."  
"I hope he turns up," said Graham.  
"She said he was a demon hunter?" said Forrest.  
"Yeah," said Riley.  
  
"Is he human?"  
Riley frowned, "Why wouldn't he be? He's sort of... Buffy's ex-boyfriend. He's human... What am I doing, I didn't come over to dump on you guys. Enough about me, how've you been?"  
"We've been doing alright," said Forrest. "You heard about Alan?"  
"Yeah," said Riley. "When's the funeral?"  
"Tomorrow," said Graham. "They would have had it earlier but they had trouble piecing him back together."  
"Sounds nasty," said Riley. "What did it?"  
"Werewolf but don't worry, we got it."  
  
"You doing anything tonight?" asked Forrest. "Cause some of the guys are going down to the Bronze."  
"No, I think I should stay with Buffy... unless I could bring her along, she could do with some cheering up."  
"She might not like sharing you with the rest of us," said Forrest bitterly.  
"No, it's cool, Riley," said Graham, ever the peace keeper. "Bring her if you need to."  
"Thanks, I will," smiled Riley. "Be nice to hang with you guys again."  
  
Their beepers went off. All three checked them almost by habit. Riley paused as he realised his was dormant. Forrest and Graham turned theirs off, "We got to go, mother wants us."  
"Do you want me to come?" asked Riley.  
"No man, we got it," said Graham.  
"We'll check with the Professor," added Forrest. "About your pager, I mean."  
"Alright, I'll see you tonight then," Riley called, as Forrest and Graham cut through the cafeteria queues on their way out. He looked around at the empty table and his friends' abandoned food trays.  
He sighed, "So much for lunch."  
Riley collected all three food trays and returned them to the front counter. With nothing urgent to do, he decided that he'd better check on Buffy.  
  
Buffy was standing in the copy room, leaning against the machine with her eyes closed as the machine churned out it's copies. Riley watched as the completed photocopies piled up in the tray. One slid across the top of the pile and floated towards the floor. Riley caught it before it landed, Buffy opening her eyes at the rustle of paper.  
"Hi," she said.  
"Hi," he said.  
Riley looked at the copies. Missing was stamped at the top in a lopsided print above a photograph and Buffy's contact details. Riley knew now why Buffy had been reluctant to show the photograph. It was a professionally done photograph, the kind done at high school proms. The picture was of an unfamiliar man in a tuxedo. The other half of the photo had been covered by something but Riley could guess what was in the original. He could still see a thin pair of tanned arms arranged around the man's waist and pink edging by his feet. A tanned woman in a pink dress had been covered in the photograph. Buffy. He hated Angel already.  
  
"Riley?"  
"You're using your prom photo?"  
"He's... camera shy. It's the only one I have."  
At her expression, Riley suppressed his jealousy and took Buffy's hand in his.  
"You know," he began. "Some of my friends are going to the Bronze tonight. I think we should join them.  
"I don't know. I should stay where..." began Buffy.  
"Come on, Buffy. You need cheering up, time to relax," said Riley. "Willow can call you if anything happens. Let me look after you? Please?"  
Buffy didn't quite know how to answer when confronted with Riley's expression.  
She sighed, "Alright. If it'll make you happy."  
"It will."  
  
***  
  
"And how are your boys today, Dr?" asked Angel as Dr Walsh came into the cell.  
"They're doing just fine, thankyou," she answered, coming to stand by the foot of the bed.  
"So, decided what you're going to do with me, yet?" continued Angel in a conversational tone.  
Dr Walsh paused, "How much do you know about our organisation?"  
"The Initiative?" asked Angel.  
He was satisfied by the look of surprise on her face. He shrugged, "Not much. Bunch of government funded demon hunter wannabes."  
"Wannabes?" asked Dr Walsh harshly. "And I suppose you're the real thing?"  
Angel smiled, "Sorry, personal prejudices getting in the way there. You insulted a lot of people by being successful. There are people who have devoted their entire lives to this business and you scare the hell out of the demon population in a matter of months."  
"I'm not going to apologise for being successful," said Dr Walsh.  
"Good," said Angel.  
  
Dr Walsh sighed, "Do these conversations have to be hostile?"  
"You tell me," said Angel.  
"I will tell you. We've done some research, asked around. We haven't found anything to contradict your stories. In fact, you received a glowing endorsement from a bartender we talked to."  
Angel frowned, "Bartender? Which bartender?"  
Dr Walsh flipped through the sheets of paper on her clipboard before answering, "William Alston."  
Angel lifted his head off the pillow to gaze at her, "Willy the snitch?"  
  
Dr Walsh smiled at his obvious shock, "He also warned us not to mess with you, seeing that all the demons that did got... mushed, I think was the word he used."  
Angel dropped his head back onto the pillow, "Sounds like Willy to me."  
Dr Walsh sat on the edge of the bed, "The point is, I think we might be able to help each other."  
"How?" asked Angel suspiciously.  
"We're not quite prepared to let you walk out of here just yet but at the same time, you need time to recover from your injuries. There's no reason we can't help each other in the meantime. What I'm proposing is information in exchange for freedom of movement."  
  
"I'm listening," said Angel, slightly less suspicious.  
"We let you out of the bed but not out of the room in exchange for information. Depending on how co-operative you are, we'll consider letting you out of the room as long as you remain within the confines of this complex."  
Angel bit his lip, considering his options.  
Dr Walsh looked him directly in the eye, "If you are truly a demon hunter, you'll know that some of the information you give us will save lives."  
Angel shook his head in resignation, "Why not? It's not like I've got much else to do."  
  
To be continued... 


	3. Quid Pro Quo

DISCLAIMER : All Buffy : The Vampire Slayer and ANGEL characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and Fox Studios. No copyright infringement intended, just a chance to share with my fellow fans and absolutely no money profit is gained on the part of the author. Prior to the Buffy episode 'The I in Team' (i.e. Season four).  
PG-13. SUMMARY : Angel and the Initiative start to work together while Buffy is still searching for him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
BC : BEFORE CHILDREN  
Quid Pro Quo  
  
"How are your boys this morning?"  
"They're fine."  
Dr Walsh settled herself into a chair opposite Angel in the small research lab. Dr Walsh had managed to keep her voice firm but her furtive glances towards Angel betrayed her.  
"You seem well this morning," she said conversationally.  
It was so true, Dr Walsh found herself forced to hide a self-satisfied smirk. Although she didn't make a habit of caring for convalescent vampires, the treatment she had practically devised overnight had worked. No one ever said Maggie Walsh never took pride in her work but if asked she would admit that she wasn't solely responsible for his recovery. For two days Angel had been pale, sickly and restrained to the bed. After they had made a deal to exchange information for freedom of movement, a change seemed to have come over him. His eyes were alert and intensely curious as if he hadn't seen the room properly before. He'd propped up the pillows so that he could sit facing her.   
"Alright," said Dr Walsh. "We've fulfilled our part of the deal, now it's your turn."  
"Ask away," said Angel pleasantly.  
  
As Dr Walsh looked down at her clipboard and the list of questions that she and her fellow scientists had come up with, Angel pulled at the fabric of the khaki turtleneck which he'd borrowed. It didn't quite fit him properly but his own shirt had been shredded by the blow from the axe. He was better at hiding his uncertainty than Dr Walsh had been.  
"We know humans can be turned, resurrected as vampires," said Dr Walsh, reading aloud. "Were all vampires originally human?"  
"Yes," said Angel. "That's what vampires are. Human-demon hybrids."  
  
"Hybrids?" frowned Dr Walsh.  
She paused in the act of writing down his answer, "Where did you get that from?"  
"Other vampires, demons, ancient texts," said Angel. "It's part of history. Before mankind was established, the demons existed here. Later, they retreated to another dimension and mortal animals took their place. According to legend, the last demon to leave this reality fed from a human. The demon mixed it's blood with the human and this was the first vampire. A human possessed. He bit another who bit another and so on and so forth."  
Dr Walsh had leant forward as she was drawn in by Angel's mesmerising tone. She held his gaze for a moment before he spoke again.  
"Satisfied?" Angel's tone was once again playful and it broke the atmosphere he'd created. Dr Walsh blinked before leaning back again in her chair.  
  
She smiled at Angel, "Not with the details, it's quite a layered mythology but the hybrid theory was fascinating."  
"Well, I aim to please," smiled Angel. "Well, actually, I aim to escape but this'll do in the meantime."  
  
Dr Walsh closed her clipboard and leaned forward, "So, all vampires were human once, as far as you know?"  
"Yes."  
"Including you?"  
Angel paused, his smile fading a bit, "Yes."  
This was new territory for Dr Walsh, it opened up a whole new line of questioning.  
"What were you before you were a vampire?" she asked him directly.  
"A drunk Irishman," answered Angel, the impish smile returning.  
"Really?" asked Dr Walsh surprised. "You don't have much of an accent."  
Angel shrugged, "It's been a long time since I've been in Ireland."  
  
"How long?" asked Dr Walsh.  
"Long enough."  
Dr Walsh's expression became serious, "How old are you, exactly?"  
"Guess," said Angel playfully.  
"All I can tell is how old you were when you died," said Dr Walsh, starting to sound annoyed.  
"But do you really need to know anything else?" said Angel, avoiding the question.  
"Humour me," said Dr Walsh.  
"No."  
  
At the flat out refusal, Dr Walsh suppressed her anger, "We made an agreement."  
Angel shook his head, "I agreed to give you information about demons - not myself."  
"You are a demon..." began Dr Walsh but then saw from Angel's expression that the argument would be unsuccessful.  
Dr Walsh changed tactics, "Why won't you tell me? What are you hiding?"  
"Nothing," protested Angel. "I just don't think it's any of your business."  
"How old are you?" repeated Dr Walsh.  
"How old are you?" countered Angel.  
"Thirty-two," answered Dr Walsh quickly.  
"Ah... damn," said Angel. "You weren't supposed to answer that."  
"So sorry," said Dr Walsh with mock sympathy. "But now it's your turn."  
Angel looked away and muttered something behind his hand.  
  
"What was that?" asked Dr Walsh loudly. "I didn't quite hear you."  
"Two hundred and forty-four... happy now?" Angel answered sullenly.  
Dr Walsh realised her mouth was hanging open slightly and she promptly shut it.  
"Well, ah... thankyou," she muttered.  
"Yeah," said Angel.  
  
***  
  
"Hey, guys," Riley called in greeting, wading through the crowded Bronze dance floor.  
Buffy trailed along behind him, a forced smile on her lips.  
"Riley," called Graham. "Glad you could make it, man."  
"Thanks. How are things with you guys?" said Riley.  
There was a general murmur of replies.  
"Oh, you guys all know Buffy... Buffy this is Kevin, Jay, Graham and Forrest."  
"Oh, hi," said Buffy, a little distantly.  
Riley laughed nervously, "You guys want a drink? I'll buy."  
The guys shouted their orders and Riley joined the queue at the counter.  
"Now that's the kind of friend everyone needs," quipped Jay.  
  
Buffy stood there, looking depressed. Her arms were folded, her shoulders hunched and her face hid behind her hair.  
"You come here often, Buffy?" began Graham, trying to be conversational.  
"I'm fine," said Buffy, not even hearing the question.  
"Is something wrong?" asked Forrest.  
"Wrong? No, what would be wrong?" asked Buffy, attempting an innocent expression.  
"Here you go, guys," said Riley, bringing back an armful of drinks.  
The guys relieved Riley of his burden, leaving him with two glasses of coke.  
"Buffy?" he asked gently, handing her one.  
"I didn't ask for a drink," frowned Buffy.  
"I know. I got you one anyway."  
"Oh."  
  
Buffy took the glass and began to suck absent-mindedly at the straw.  
"I thought coke might bring out the flavour of the cyanide ice cubes," said Riley quietly.  
"Oh, good," answered Buffy distantly.  
Graham and Forrest exchanged looks.  
"Riley, man, you hear about the Alpha Delt party this Tuesday?" asked Kevin.  
"Excuse me," interrupted Buffy. "What did you say about the ice cubes?"  
Riley smiled politely, "Nothing. Don't worry about it."  
Buffy nodded but still looked confused, "Oh, sorry."  
"I can't," said Riley, in answer to Kevin's question. "The Professor's got me down for patrol. It's odd, she seems so busy lately. Do you guys know what's going on?"  
Forrest shrugged, "The Professor has herself a new project. In fact, she spends so much time on it, Dr Inggelman has started giving us mission debriefs."  
  
"Riley," said Buffy quietly. "I'm not feeling too well, I'm just going to go home, okay?"  
"No," said Riley.  
"What?" asked Buffy in surprise.  
"You're not going home," said Riley, before turning to his friends. "Just a minute, guys."  
Riley took Buffy's hand and dragged her out onto the dance floor, "I hoped it wouldn't come to this."  
Buffy tried to pull away again but Riley pulled her back.  
"Riley man, don't do it!" shouted Forrest in the background.  
"Face it, Riley, you can't dance!" echoed Kevin.  
"If this is what it takes, then this is what it takes," said Riley solemnly.  
  
Riley took a deep breath and tried to hide the nerves he felt. He grabbed Buffy's hand and spun her out in a pirouette. Ignoring Buffy's cry of surprise, Riley spun her around again. Before Buffy realised it, they were dancing the tango to a techno song. And they weren't doing it well. Riley had to catch Buffy several times before she lost her balance and they kept kicking each other's feet. By the end of the song, Buffy was laughing uncontrollably at their own uncoordinated attempts to dance.  
"Oh, wait a minute," she gasped, pushing away. "I have a stitch."  
They were both still laughing as they staggered off the dance floor.  
"Oh my god," said Buffy when she had recovered her composure. "You made a complete fool of yourself."  
"I know," grinned Riley sheepishly. "But it's worth it to hear you laugh again."  
"Oh," sighed Buffy, depressing thoughts resurfacing again. "You're right. Angel has been gone for almost a week and I need to get on with my life. I need to accept that Angel is dead... and I'm not."  
Riley put his arm around her shoulder, "You're sure you're okay?"  
"I'll be fine... this time for real."  
  
Smiling, they joined Riley friends who spent the next half an hour ragging Riley on his dancing ability but it only took a few minutes for Buffy to join in the laughter. Jay tapped Graham on the elbow, "I have got to remember that the next time my girl's depressed."  
Graham agreed and then went back to watching Forrest and Buffy kidding around. Riley stayed near her the whole night but Graham could have told him he didn't need to. The black cloud had been lifted and Buffy didn't seem as much of a threat to their trio of friends as she had before. In the back of his mind, however, something was bothering Graham. He knew better than to say it out loud but he was thinking about Buffy's fighting style, wondering where she had been taught and more specifically, who else fought her way.  
  
***  
  
Angel was walking around his cell, experimentally. He winced occasionally and held his side. There was a beep and the door opened. He seemed almost pleased when Dr Walsh came in.  
"How are your boys this morning?" asked Angel directly.  
"They're good," answered Professor Walsh.  
Dr Inggelman followed her in, staying a good distance behind her and away from Angel.  
"Why don't you sit down?" asked Dr Walsh politely.  
Angel sat down on the edge of the bed, grimacing at the pain it caused.  
"How are your injuries today?" asked Dr Walsh.  
"Getting better," said Angel.  
He stopped and smiled mischievously, "What's today's question?"  
  
Dr Walsh smiled back and referred to her notebook. Before she could answer, Dr Inggelman read it out for her.  
"If there is a method for altering a vampire's... personality," began Dr Inggelman, not too sure of his choice of words. "Are there many other vampires like you, out there?  
Angel shook his head, "Vampires, no, but there are plenty of peaceful demons."  
"Demons?" asked Dr Walsh.  
Before Angel could continue, Dr Inggelman interrupted again.  
"Are you saying you're the only peaceful vampire out there?" he asked.  
Angel nodded, "Vampires are humans that are already dead so there's a demon calling the shots - controlling the body. Seeing as pure demons aim to bring back the old ones, they're not to friendly to creatures they consider beneath them."  
  
"You didn't quite answer my question. According to your story, you being peaceful seems an even more improbable scenario," said Dr Inggelman.  
Angel narrowed his eyes slightly before answering, "I said a demon takes control of the dead body, takes over the mind. There's a good reason that the demon waits until the person is dead first."  
"And why is that?" asked Dr Inggelman.  
"Because they know, unlike some demons, they don't have enough strength to fully possess the soul of a living human. Once the person is dead, there's no soul, no competition for control of the body. Most people don't consider what would happen if the demon soul and a human soul somehow inhabited the same body," said Angel, finishing softly.  
"That which makes us human overpowers the demon?" guessed Dr Walsh, sounding a little awed.  
Angel nodded, "Makes for one hell of a multiple personality."  
"Fascinating," said Dr Inggelman dryly.  
  
Angel narrowed his eyes again at Dr Inggelman, "That it?"  
Dr Walsh stirred from her position, "Ah, no. Just a brief question, we know that vampires sometimes form nests to make hunting easier but is there any family group or clan that they belong to or are they all independent of each other?"  
Angel shrugged, "Depends. The vampire that sires you will usually only do so if they are prepared to have you around. They don't do it carelessly, they just kill most people they feed off. Most sires have close relationships with vampires they've created."  
"A sire?" asked Dr Walsh. "A vampire that creates another vampire? Like a parent-child relationship?"  
Angel smiled, "Not quite. Sire's often care about their offspring but it's no accident that most of their victims are of the opposite sex. More often than not they're looking for a lover, not a child."  
Dr Inggelman shuddered at the thought, "What about you?"  
  
"What about me?" asked Angel levelly.  
"You had a sire, I presume?" asked Dr Inggelman. "What was she like?"  
"She was very powerful - vampires tend to pass that on it their blood. The stronger the sire, the stronger the offspring," answered Angel cautiously.  
"That makes you strong?" asked Dr Inggelman in disbelief.  
"I can look after myself," admitted Angel modestly.  
"So, I've heard," said Dr Walsh. "My boys told me you single handedly killed at least three or four Kuria... sorry, Atashak demons."  
"Why do you insist on calling them Atashak demons?" asked Dr Inggelman impatiently.  
"Because," Angel answered, equally impatient. "That's what they're called. Just because you didn't realise they existed, doesn't mean you made an earth-shattering discovery. There are probably hundreds of demons you don't know about and they're all already written down, on paper. You just have to be bothered reading the right books."  
"Books?" asked Dr Walsh. "What books?"  
Angel shrugged, "Ancient texts, prophecies, legends, religious volumes. Places you would never think to look."  
Dr Walsh made a note on her page.  
  
"What does your sire do now? She peaceful too?" asked Dr Inggelman, changing the topic.  
Angel looked away for a minute. When he looked back, his face was almost unreadable.  
"No, she's not. I made a human friend, my sire didn't approve. I had to make a choice," Angel shrugged sadly.  
Dr Inggelman sent a disapproving glance to Dr Walsh but Dr Walsh's expression was more sympathetic than he expected or approved of.  
  
***  
  
Willow and Tara were walking through the common room of the main student dormitory.  
"She's giving up hope?" asked Tara, surprised.  
Willow sighed, "I don't know. Angel does have this habit of disappearing but... he did promise to meet her and to not show up... If Buffy wants to take down the missing posters, it's really her business and that's what we should do."  
Tara looked at the pile of sheets they'd already collected from various pin-up boards around the university.  
"Why is it a photo of the two of them?" asked Tara.  
"That's Buffy and Angel's graduation photo. Angel doesn't like cameras, in fact, avoids them like the plague, not to mention the whole night thing... you'd have to use a camera with a flash," explained Willow. "It's the only photo Buffy has with him in it."  
Tara smiled, "I like her dress."  
  
A frisbee sailed past Willow's ear and Forrest knocked into her on his way to retrieve it.  
"Sorry, ladies," he smiled, sending the frisbee back across the room.  
Forrest's pass was wide and Graham dived in a an attempt to catch it. Graham collided with a pin-up board by the door and was showered with falling pamphlets.  
Forrest laughed, "Hey, with blocking ability like that - we should ask the board to play!"  
"Are you alright?" asked Willow, walking over to Graham.  
Graham swatted fliers away from his face, "Yeah, thanks."  
Willow extended a hand to help him up and he took it gratefully. Tara and Willow began to collect the loose papers and pin them back on the board. Graham was reaching down to pick up a pamphlet when something caught his eye. He slipped a piece of paper into his pocket and helped the girls finish the job.  
"Thanks," Graham said to them before heading over to Forrest.  
  
"Now that was funny...," began Forrest.  
He saw Graham's serious expression, "What's up?"  
"I think we should go see the Professor," said Graham.  
Without another wisecrack, a curious Forrest followed a determined Graham.  
  
Behind them, Willow was still standing by the pin-up board.  
"I could have sworn I put a poster on this board," she told Tara. "I can't collect it if I can't find it."  
"Maybe Xander or Buffy picked it up already?" suggested Tara.  
"Maybe," agreed Willow dubiously. "Oh, what the hell, it's just a missing person poster. It's not like the world is going to end."  
  
***  
  
Dr Walsh was sitting at her workspace, daydreaming. That in itself was unusual. Forrest and Graham approached her nervously.  
"Dr Walsh?" asked Forrest.  
"Hmm? Sorry, how can I help you?" asked Dr Walsh with a start.  
"We thought you might like to see this," said Graham, handing her the piece of paper he'd hidden in his pocket.  
Dr Walsh frowned and read the heading out loud, "Have you seen this man?"  
Underneath the heading was a photograph of hostile 23 (in a tuxedo) with his arms around Riley's girlfriend. Dr Walsh looked back up at Forrest and Graham.  
"Where did you get this?" she demanded, fighting an unreasonable feeling of betrayal.  
"The pin-up board opposite the cafeteria," answered Graham. "We checked the other boards but this was the only one we could find."  
  
Dr Walsh stood up, still gazing intently at the photograph.  
"We don't know how long ago that was taken," said Forrest. "He might not be a vampire in that photo."  
Dr Walsh looked at Forrest, straining to keep the hurt from her voice, "I think he was a vampire long before the Slayer was even born."  
Forrest and Graham exchanged puzzled looks.  
"Buffy fits the description the butcher gave us, according to Riley one of her friends has disappeared recently and there are certain similarities between their fighting styles," said Graham. "Ma'am, if I might speak freely?"  
When Dr Walsh didn't object, he continued, "I think this is just more proof that hostile 23 is not dangerous."  
  
Forrest looked sideways at Graham, worried Graham was about to get his head bitten off. Dr Walsh's response surprised them both.  
"I agree. She obviously trusts him and so far, I can see why," said Dr Walsh, almost more to herself than to Forrest and Graham.  
"What do you want us to do about it, ma'am?" asked Forrest. "Do you want us to talk to Buffy about this?"  
"No," said Dr Walsh quickly. "I'll handle this. Thankyou, dismissed."  
Dr Walsh turned and walked away from them, entering the secured area. Forrest and Graham exchanged looks before returning to the surface.  
  
Dr Walsh entered Angel's cell. Angel looked up from scrutinizing his bandages as she came in. The sight soothed her temper slightly.  
"How's your boys?" he asked cordially.  
"They're fine. Problem with the bandages?" asked Dr Walsh, pointing.  
"Not really," shrugged Angel. "Started bleeding again but nothing major."  
"I see," said Dr Walsh. "That's good."  
"Ah, didn't I already answer questions today?" asked Angel cautiously, unsure of her intent.  
"Yes, you did," agreed Dr Walsh. "You did it so well, I thought I might try for a rematch."  
  
Smiling, Angel stood and walked towards her, stopping inches from her face. Acutely aware of how close he was, Dr Walsh stared resolutely at the bandages to avoid his eyes.  
"Without Mr What's-his-name?" he asked pointedly.  
"Dr Inggelman?" asked Dr Walsh, raising her courage and looking him in the eye.  
"Whatever," said Angel dismissively.  
Dr Walsh smiled in spite of herself then remembered why she was there. She might as well approach it delicately rather than demand straightforward answers.  
  
"Angel," began Dr Walsh. "Do you have many human friends?"  
"Some."  
"Do you know what a Slayer is?" asked Dr Walsh directly.  
The transformation was almost instantaneous. Angel's amused smile faded and he took a couple of steps backwards to lean against the bed. Dr Walsh found his retreat leaving her with the upper hand and it gave her more confidence, confidence she needed if she was to get the information she wanted.  
"I'll take that as a yes," said Dr Walsh. "Do you know who the Slayer is?"  
Dr Walsh didn't flinch under Angel's flinty, unresponsive gaze.  
"Angel? Hello?" tried Dr Walsh. "Alright then, do you know who this is?"  
Dr Walsh handed him the poster and she watched his expression shift slightly upon recognition. Angel opened his mouth to speak several times, but there was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him that there was nothing he could say that wouldn't endanger Buffy.  
Uncertain, he simply said, "It's a photograph."  
"Yes, very good," said Dr Walsh impatiently. "You'll be doing barnyard animals next."  
  
Angel looked down at the poster once before he handed it back firmly, "Not my secret to tell."  
Dr Walsh snorted in frustration, not taking back the poster, "Then let me. Buffy Anne Summers, nineteen years old, a student in my psychology class and a hunter of demons in her spare time. Often known by the title of the Slayer."  
Angel looked up sharply, as if he'd been stung. He looked Dr Walsh up and down, almost sizing her up.  
"You teach Buffy?" he asked, clearly surprised.  
Dr Walsh mistook his meaning and answered hotly, "What's wrong with that? You think that a woman has no place in a centre of learning?"  
"No, no," said Angel quickly. "I didn't mean that. I just meant... I can't really imagine you and Buffy getting along."  
Dr Walsh frowned before asking, "Really? Why not?"  
  
Angel bowed his head and she was about to ask him if he was okay when he looked back up at her and she realised he was trying to suppress a smile.  
"It's hard to explain, there's no one quite like Buffy," explained Angel. "Buffy is very much... hang on."  
Angel reached out for the poster and Dr Walsh let him take it from her hands.  
"Does Buffy know I'm here?" he asked urgently.  
"Most definitely not," said Dr Walsh, with more than a little pride in her voice.  
Angel looked worried and he leaned towards Dr Walsh, "You have to get a message to her. Tell her I'm alright, that I'm okay. She must be worried sick."  
Dr Walsh confused, asked what she felt was the obvious question, "Would the Slayer care, of all people?"  
  
Angel turned to her angrily, "You don't know Buffy the way I do... please?"  
The plea was so pitiful yet honest that Dr Walsh's resolve faltered, "I'll... I'll see what I can do."  
He seemed to understand that she was compromising and his expression softened, "Thankyou."  
Dr Walsh watched Angel bend his head to gaze at the floor, his mind drifting off to experiences she could only guess at. There was something so human in that, that on an impulse, she crossed to lean against the bed beside him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she pulled herself onto a sitting position on the edge of the bed.  
"You and Buffy are... close?" asked Dr Walsh, carefully.  
Angel smiled sadly again and leaned back to look at her, "Remember that friend I made?"  
Dr Walsh nodded, "You killed your sire for Buffy?"  
"Something like that."  
  
Dr Walsh held up the poster. She sighed and held it out to Angel, "When was that taken?"  
Angel was about to say something defensive but her expression reassured him it was a genuine question.  
"Last year. Buffy's prom night. She was going to go with... someone... they had to cancel and it didn't seem right for her to go alone. So I met her there," he said, smiling at the memory. "She didn't know I was coming. For all I knew, she could have asked someone else or not gone at all. But there she was, standing by the punchbowl. Not waiting pathetically for some impossible guy to ask her to dance, just surveying the scene. Always cool and in control."  
Dr Walsh watched the expression on his face as he talked about Buffy, "You two were involved?"  
"We haven't seen much of each other since I moved away," said Angel, avoiding the question.  
He turned to look her in the eyes again. Dr Walsh returned the look, trying to fathom it's meaning.  
"Is that all?" asked Angel.  
  
"Yeah," said Dr Walsh, suddenly loosing her nerve. She stood again and collected her clipboard.  
"Bye," said Angel.  
With a forced cheerfulness she answered, "See you tomorrow."  
"Don't forget to tell Buffy, please?"  
Dr Walsh nodded before leaving the room. Out in the corridor, she let out a nervous breath and leant against the wall. She rubbed at her neck with shaking hands.  
"You alright, Dr?" asked Dr Inggelman from a distance.  
"Fine," she answered, straightening up. "I just need a small break."  
  
Dr Walsh walked in an unfamiliar haze to the bathroom. She began to run the tap, watching the water swirl down the plughole. She slipped her hands into the stream of water and rubbed at the back of her own neck. The water was nice and fresh against her skin. Her mind began to clear and she relaxed again. The bathroom door opened, interrupting her reverie. Dr Walsh stared fixedly ahead at the mirror. The reflection of Dr Moore, the youngest of Dr Inggelman's science team, came to stand beside her. Dr Walsh turned off the running water without looking away from the mirror.  
"Are you alright?" asked Dr Moore. "Dr Inggelman was worried."  
"Fine," answered Dr Walsh automatically.  
  
Dr Moore smiled abruptly.  
"Met someone?" she asked, almost eagerly.  
"What?" asked Dr Walsh sharply.  
"Sorry," said Dr Moore quickly, worried she'd overstepped her bounds. "You just had this look. I figured it was over some guy."  
Dr Walsh smiled ironically, "Yeah. Some guy."  
"Worried about keeping secrets?" inquired Dr Moore.  
"I think he know most of my secrets already... what am I talking about? I barely know him," said Dr Walsh.  
"Maybe not," agreed Dr Moore. "But its always nice to find out it's possible - falling in love I mean."  
Dr Walsh smiled wistfully, "Yeah."  
Returning her smile, Dr Moore began to back towards the door.  
"Makes the whole world look different, doesn't it?" added Dr Moore, unable to stop herself.  
She turned and left Dr Walsh alone with her reflection.  
"Possible. Who'd have thought? It's well past time for change, anyway," announced Dr Walsh to the empty bathroom.  
  
***  
  
Dr Moore, hiding her smile, returned to the waiting Dr Inggelman.  
"She's fine, Dr," said Dr Moore. "Just a personal matter that I think she's on top of."  
"What kind of personal matter?" pressed Dr Inggelman.  
"Ah.. it's a woman's problem, Dr Inggelman," she lied.  
"That's an evasive answer, Dr Moore."  
"It's intended to be."  
At her superior's disapproving glance, she felt obliged to add, "If you really think you need to know, I suggest you ask Dr Walsh directly. I don't want to tell you unless I know she wants me to tell you."  
Dr Inggelman seemed to accept that, "Fair enough Doctor. I'll talk to her, myself."  
Dr Moore nodded meekly and returned to her work in the pit.  
  
Dr Walsh emerged from the bathroom. Intending to talk to her, Dr Inggelman followed her out of the secured area into the Initiative's main floor.  
"Dr Inggelman, sir?" asked a voice at his elbow.  
When he turned, there was a marine beside him.  
"What is it, Private?" asked Dr Inggelman.  
"I think you'd want to see this, sir," said the marine urgently.  
"What is it?"  
"It's, well... I really think you should see it for yourself."  
  
Dr Inggelman followed the private, who led him into the men's bathroom.  
"What is it?" repeated Dr Inggelman.  
"It's in the cubicle, sir," explained the marine, pointing.  
Dr Inggelman peered in the cubicle. There was a small bundle in a plastic bag.  
"I still don't see..," began Dr Inggelman.  
There was a wet smacking sound as the marine's baton collided with the back of Dr Inggelman's head.  
  
Dr Inggelman slumped forward and was still. The marine dropped the bloodstained baton into the toilet bowl with such a high-pitched splash that he glanced around nervously to see if anyone had heard. The marine dragged the plastic bag out from underneath Dr Inggelman. The bag's contents were nothing more than clothing, the bag protecting it from the slowly expanding pool of blood. The marine changed into a neat business shirt and sombre pants. Over the top, he added a pristine white lab coat. Once this was done, he closed his eyes in some bizarre twist of concentration. As he did so, his very facial features shifted and melted as if there was a mass of insects crawling beneath his skin. He went through several faces before settling on a likeness of Dr Inggelman. One of them was that of an Atashak demon.  
  
To be continued... 


	4. Beauty and the Beast

DISCLAIMER : All Buffy : The Vampire Slayer and ANGEL characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and Fox Studios. No copyright infringement intended, just a chance to share with my fellow fans and absolutely no money profit is gained on the part of the author. Prior to the Buffy episode 'The I in Team'. (Season 4). Any words in / indicates something written down rather than spoken.  
PG-13  
SUMMARY : The Initiative comes under attack.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
BC : BEFORE CHILDREN  
'Part Four'  
By Claire Hadley  
  
Buffy was chewing on icecubes in the Bronze. It had originally been a drink but she'd finished it. So now, ice cubes, because Forrest had bought the first drink for her and she didn't have any money of her own to buy a second. Forrest and Jay were busy discussing how they put the little white letter M on M&Ms. While they argued graphically with much waving and grunting to illustrate their viewpoints, the others were stealing the very M&Ms that had started it all in the first place. Riley stole another handful of M&Ms and passed some to Graham and Buffy underneath the table. Buffy couldn't help it and giggled. Forrest looked up from the argument and spotted the depleted pile of M&Ms.  
"Hey!" cried Jay.  
Forrest was beginning to demand the immediate return or refund of the M&Ms when Buffy's eyes focused elsewhere. Her business-like expression alerted the group.  
  
"What is it?" asked Riley, following her gaze.  
"Vampire," said Buffy, staring intently at a couple in the corner.  
The group turned to watch the flirting duo. The couple left the bar, the boy obviously encouraging the girl to follow him. Buffy grabbed her handbag and marched determinedly after them. The guys fell in behind her, almost without realising it. They followed the couple outside and into a dark corner, where the couple began to kiss. When they heard the snarl of a vampire, they rushed in. Riley knocked the two of them apart. Forrest raised a stake in the air, ready to bring it down through the boy's heart when Buffy knocked Forrest sideways. Before Forrest had begun to complain, Buffy pivoted and drove her own stake through the girl's chest. There was a plaintive groan from the girl before she disintegrated into dust.  
  
Forrest looked at Buffy in surprise, almost embarrassment, as she helped the boy to his feet.  
"Oh my god," said the boy.  
"You alright?" asked Buffy.  
"Oh my god," repeated the boy. "Her face..."  
"She's gone. Are you hurt?"  
Still stunned, the boy shook his head.  
"It'd probably be an idea for you to go straight home," suggested Jay.  
"Home," echoed the boy, distantly.  
"Do you have friends somewhere here?" asked Buffy gently.  
"What? Oh, they're in the Bronze."  
"Go get some help, then."  
The boy wandered back into the Bronze, still with a dazed expression.  
  
Buffy watched him go and when she turned, Forrest was facing her.  
"What?" she asked.  
"How did you know?" he asked.  
"Know what?"  
"That the girl was the vamp, not the guy."  
"Oh, that?" asked Buffy, shrugging it off. "I'd like to say it was talent but the truth is I've seen her before."  
"You know many vampires by sight?" asked Graham dryly.  
"No, most vampires I see usually become ashtray size but occasionally there are one or two that get away," answered Buffy.   
  
As they had been speaking, they had been moving away from the Bronze at a walking pace.  
"So, are we calling it a night?" asked Buffy. "Cause I'm kinda sleepy."  
"I have papers to mark," said Riley.  
"Looks like it's just you and me, buddy," said Forrest, slapping Graham on the back.  
"No thanks," said Graham, shaking his head. "I have armoury detail tomorrow morning."  
"Damn," said Forrest. "You do pull the early shifts, don't you?"  
Graham smiled, "Like a magnet, man, like a magnet."  
"What's armoury detail?" asked Buffy.  
"Signing weapons in and out of the armoury," explained Riley.  
"Not really information for civilians, Riley. No offence Buffy," said Forrest grimly.  
"No offence taken," said Buffy, then her voice gained an edge. "Unless you dare call me a civilian again."  
  
Forrest was taken aback by her tone, "You have to agree you're not a member of the military, that makes you a civilian."  
"Technically, but I've been doing this since I was fifteen and seeing as I have a title and the whole destiny deal, I consider myself the professional," said Buffy, keeping a tight rein on her pride.  
"Fifteen?" exclaimed Graham. "You were doing this when you were fifteen?"  
Buffy realised what she'd said and added sheepishly, "Well, it's not like I had a choice."  
"Nobody gave you a choice?" frowned Riley.  
"Not really. Some crusty old guy turned up at my school and started spouting some nonsense about me being the chosen one. Once I knew vampires existed, I couldn't just standby and let people get hurt."  
Forrest began to reply to that when a throaty yell interrupted him. Without exchanging glances, the group instantly hurried towards the source of the sound.  
  
***  
  
The control room at the Initiative smelt of men's cologne. Though it was odd for computer banks and security monitors to smell of men's cologne, it made more sense once you realised that the consoles were manned twenty-four hours a day. It gave it a more tangible sense of reality then the rest of the sterile compound that was the Initiative. The centre of control was a red double sided panel with security monitors and gauges arranged in a visual all-you-can-eat buffet. Three soldiers in chairs lined one side and on the other, there were two soldiers in swivel chairs and one empty chair. Not that the soldiers noticed the empty chair and if they did, they did not comment. Their minds were too fixed on the babble of information they were receiving through their headpieces or running diagnostics to take stock of small details like that.  
  
A computerized beeping echoed dully through the door. The soldier on the end of the row looked up briefly as Dr Inggelman entered, closing the security door after him. The soldier turned back to his console. Idly, Dr Inggelman circled the central panel, peering over the soldier's shoulders. He stopped on the side of the console where only two soldiers were sitting. He leant in between them.  
"What's the situation in the holding area?" he asked casually.  
As he spoke, his hands slipped inside his lab coat and closed around two concealed pistols. As one of the two soldiers began to answer, he pulled the pistols out and slammed the pistol butts into the soldiers' heads. He raised the pistols to eye height and shot two of the three soldiers on the other side of the console. The third ducked beneath the console, drawing his weapon.  
  
Cautiously, the soldier began to raise his head to peer over the computer console. Bullets ricocheted off the metal in such a flurry of sound that by the time he was under cover again, he was partially deaf. Assured that Dr Inggelman was directly on the opposite side of the panel, the soldier leapt out sideways. He slid across the floor on his side, guns pointed at the other side of the console. After peering through the legs of his unconscious fellow soldiers, he realised Dr Inggelman wasn't there. Dr Inggelman was standing behind him. As the soldier swivelled to get Dr Inggelman in his sights, Dr Inggelman fired first. The soldier's weapon clattered across the floor. The soldier clutched at his hand, where the bullet had grazed his weapon hand. The wound was not serious but it had done it's job in disarming him.  
"Up," said Dr Inggelman coldly.  
  
The soldier climbed obediently to his feet. Dr Inggelman pointed to the other soldiers with his gun.  
"Get them out of the chairs," he said. "Drag them to the corner."  
The soldier dragged his unconscious and wounded colleagues to the corner. He tried to administer first aid as best he could. Keeping half an eye on the soldier, Dr Inggelman wandered back to the console. When he found the panel he wanted, he began to flick switches.   
  
***  
  
Buffy and the guys had reached the source of the yelling but they were too late. As they watched from a distance, Atashak demons picked over the bodies of an Initiative patrol. The demons almost reverently began to undress the corpses.   
"What are they doing?" whispered Graham.  
At the small sound, some of the nearest demons perked up their ears to listen. Buffy motioned for Graham to be quiet. The group sat in near silence under cover of a low hanging branch. The clearing in front of them showed signs of a scuffle, as if proof for those who doubted the evidence of the bodies themselves.   
  
Buffy realised that the Atashak demons were not being reverent, they were just being careful not to rip the soldier's uniforms with their long claws. They were extremely determined to get the uniforms off intact and it was obvious why when then began to put them on. Graham pulled out a notepad and pen. He scribbled as silently as he could and passed the note to Riley.  
/That's not much of a disguise. Their faces don't look human./  
Riley took the pen and began to scribble a reply. Buffy tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. When he looked up, his mouth dropped open. The Atashak demons were morphing into human forms. With the uniforms on, there was now no way to tell that they weren't real soldiers. Riley crossed out his message and scrawled a new one. He showed it to Buffy before handing it back to Graham.  
/Trying to get into the Initiative?/  
  
When the Atashak demons finished their disguises, they began to move through the thick woods towards the nearest Initiative entrance. Buffy and the soldiers moved after them slowly but quietly. The Atashak demons reached the nearest entrance and filed in.  
"What do we do?" asked Forrest, still whispering. "We have no weapons and no way to warn control that they're coming."  
"We'll just have to think of something," said Buffy, heading for the entrance.  
"You're not authorized to go in there," objected Graham.  
"Guys, I don't think it really matters at the moment," sighed Riley, hurrying to catch up with Buffy.  
They entered the outer door but after a few metres, they came up against a second door which was shut tight. Not even Riley's security code would open the door.  
"We're locked out," said Forrest, slamming his hands against the door in frustration.  
"Wait a second," said Buffy. "We can go back to Giles' place to get some equipment. We're not licked yet."  
  
***  
  
Down in the bowels of the Initiative, the four Atashak demons that had been captured alive were imprisoned in small, sanitized cells. The floors and three of the cell walls were tiled but the fourth wall was a glass sliding door. Each of the demons was confined separately but had their sensitive ears pressed to the walls.  
"Chana, do you see the demon hunter anywhere?" asked one of the demons  
"I hit him," hissed the one called Chana. "Hit him in the stomach with an axe. He is no more."  
"Are you sure?" asked the first demon again.  
"I'm sure, Liga..."  
  
Chana broke off as the glass door to his cell slid open. Frowning, Chana edged out into the corridor. There was nobody around.  
"Maybe the door is malfunctioning?" suggested Liga.  
"Or being opened by remote," agreed Chana.  
Before Chana could move towards Liga's door, it too slid smoothly open. Across the corridor, the other two Atashak demons were also freed. The four met in the middle of the corridor, looking around them. Heavy fire doors blocked off both ends of the corridor.  
"Hello Hallta, Nerri," Liga greeted the other two. "What now?"  
  
As if in answer to his question, one of the fire doors creaked and rose. Chana led their way through. As soon as they passed, the fire door shut behind them and another door opened in front of them.  
"Someone's directing us," said Hallta. "What do we do?"  
"We do what they want, Hallta," grinned Chana. "We go where they want us to."  
"And hope it's a friend," agreed Liga.  
  
***  
  
Professor Walsh was returning from giving Angel new clothing when she spotted Dr Moore wandering around a little absentmindedly. She was carrying an armful of files and obviously looking for administration. Instead, she marched into the armoury. Professor Walsh sighed and went in after her, entering her security code at the door.  
  
The armoury was fairly empty by its usual standards. There were two soldiers on duty, sitting at a desk to sign weapons in and out. A third was at the back, trying to repair a blaster. Dr Moore was standing in the middle of the room, frowning.  
"Dr Moore," called Professor Walsh.  
Dr Moore spun around in surprise, then smiled in recognition.  
"You want help to get to Administration?" the Professor asked.  
Dr Moore nodded, looking extremely relieved.  
  
The Professor waited until Dr Moore reached her and then they turned to leave. Dr Moore reached up to enter her security code. The keypad blinked red and denied her access.  
"That's odd," frowned Dr Moore. "My code got me in here."  
Professor Walsh smiled indulgently and tried her own code. To her surprise, that wouldn't work either. She tried it again without any luck.  
"This happens to me all the time," sighed Dr Moore.  
"I don't think its just you," said Professor Walsh. "This has never happened to me, before. Its like the computer has locked our codes out."  
"Why would the computer do that?" asked Dr Moore.  
  
***  
  
"Everyone is locked in," Dr Inggelman smiled to himself.  
The door to the control room opened and the other four Atashak demons entered. Dr Inggelman smiled at them. Chana smiled as she saw him.  
"Porera, nice to see you," she said warmly, bowing her head in greeting.  
Dr Inggelman bowed in response, "And it is nice to see you, Chana."  
  
"Well, let's get out of here," said Liga, impatiently.  
Dr Inggelman smiled at him, "I have a much better idea. Others of our kind have just snuck in, give me a moment to open the doors for them and then I'll explain properly."  
  
***  
  
Angel was woken by the sound of his cell door opening. He sat up and waited but nobody came in. He got up cautiously and slipped on the shoes Professor Walsh had left him. She had been to see him a few minutes before, bringing him new clothing since the soldier's shirt that he had borrowed had been itching him. She had also brought jeans and a baseball cap, which he had refused to wear.   
  
Angel edged out the door and looked up and down the corridor. At first glance, it looked deserted. A second look revealed that some of the other doors up and down the corridor had now been opened. A few heads began to peer around the open doors. A crowd of six spilled into the corridor. All were vampires. Angel backed into his room and pulled the cap over his head, to try and hide his eyes. He hadn't been in Sunnydale for almost a year but there was still a chance he might be recognised. He then ventured into the corridor, to join the argument about where to go now. Behind the group, a security door opened automatically, effectively ending the argument.  
  
***  
  
Dr Inggelman, a group of Atashak demons and a group of suspiscious looking soldiers, looked up as the vampires entered the control room.  
"Welcome," announced Dr Inggelman. "To the Initiative."  
Angel hung back, senses alert for any hint to what was going on. A vampire in denim stepped forward and gave voice to the thought.  
"What's going on?" demanded the vampire.  
"What's going on is that we're now in charge," answered one of the soldiers.  
"So, what's new?" sneered a second vampire.  
  
Dr Inggelman and the soldiers morphed back into the form of Atashak demons, stunning the vampires into silence.  
"We have taken control," continued the demon that had been Dr Inggelman. "We don't want to tear the place apart, it would be so much more fun to go around hunting the humans, the way they hunted us."  
"You wanna stay here?" asked the first vampire, surprised.  
"Let me see," muttered the Atashak demon. "Food, supplies, weaponry, a hiding place where people aren't going to find us, complete privacy... I'd say, most definitely."  
A murmur of agreement ran through the ranks of the vampires.  
  
"So, where are all the lab coats and commandos?" pressed the second vampire.  
The Atashak demon smiled, "They're locked in. They can't go anywhere unless we let them out first."  
The vampire smiled, "I like your way of thinking. I'm Zac, who are you?"  
"My name is Porera," answered the demon.  
"Pretty name," said the Zac conversationally.  
"Actually, it means floor mat."  
  
A red light began to blink on the console.  
"What's that?" asked Angel quietly.  
Porera examined the console then looked up sharply, "There's been an explosion. One of the outer doors has been blown in. There's a group of men attempting to get into the Initiative."  
"Commandos?" asked Zac.  
"No uniforms," frowned Porera. "There are two girls with them."  
The vampire who'd been speaking earlier, a tall brunette leaned forward to examine the screen. She was pushed out the way by a pudgy redhaired vampire.  
Before the brunette could complain, the redhead spoke, "That's the Slayer."  
"Are you sure?" asked the brunette.  
"Winnie...," began Zac, placing a warning hand on the brunette's shoulder.  
"Yes, I'm sure," answered the redhead, ignoring Zac's interruption. "I've seen her before. She beat up Sunday and chased most of us down."  
"Sunday? What happened to the other days of the week?" frowned the brunette.  
The redhead bristled slightly, "Sunday was a vampire who ruled the campus until this year."  
  
"Go to the armoury, then, and get as many weapons as you can," Porera interrupted the brewing argument.  
Porera switched screens to a shot of the armoury. There were three soldiers with their shoulders to the door in a hopeless attempt to get out. In the middle of the armoury, two scientists were sitting, trying to modify the weaponry around them to open the door. The problem was, the door had been designed to withstand almost every weapon that was locked inside with them.  
"Stop those scientists fiddling around," added Porera thoughtfully. "And take them with you. If those are soldiers in civilian clothes, hostages would be handy."  
After being cooped up for so long, the vampires were in a hurry to volunteer. Six of them set out, led by Zac and with Angel tailing along behind. Porera cleared them a path to the armoury.  
  
***  
  
Down in the armoury, Professor Walsh was wrestling with a blaster. Dr Moore was trying to turn a screwdriver to loosen a miniature screw in the casing. The amount of force she was using had caused the blaster to slide about on the tabletop until Professor Walsh offered to hold it. So now Professor Walsh was frantically trying to keep it still. The screwdriver slipped and Professor Walsh had to catch Dr Moore before she hit the ground. Professor Walsh gave the blaster a final look of loathing, then helped Dr Moore regain her balance.  
"Agent!" called Professor Walsh.  
The three soldiers wrestling with the door turned to look at her in shock, as if they'd forgotten she was there.  
"Yes ma'am?" asked one tentatively.  
"Come and hold this."  
The soldier hurried to her side but then stopped, looking at her questioningly. She handed him the blaster.  
  
Just then, the armoury door opened by itself, pitching the two remaining soldiers forward onto their faces. The soldiers were seized and the six vampires spread out into the room. Professor Walsh and Dr Moore exchanged glances.  
"Why don't you put the gun down?" asked Zac, sounding as if he hoped they wouldn't.  
The soldier holding the blaster looked down in surprise, reminded that he had a weapon. Stubbornly, he lifted it up to aim at the vampires.  
"Wouldn't do that, if I were you," said Angel quietly, behind him.  
The soldier pointed the gun at Zac, pegging him as the leader. Angel stepped forward silently and elbowed the soldier in the side. As the soldier fell, Angel simply pulled the blaster from his hands. The soldier looked up sullenly at Angel's emotionless expression.  
  
The soldier was not the only one who looked at Angel. Professor Walsh's expression was livid. The furious accusation in her eyes made Dr Moore uncomfortable. She kept turning to look at the two of them, wondering why. Zac's look was one of annoyance at being denied the chance for bloodshed but Zac was in charge for a reason. He thrust aside his emotion and turned to the business at hand.  
"Get some weapons," he ordered. "We got ourselves a Slayer to take care of."  
The vampires moved quickly, glad to have someone else make the decisions. They chose simple weapons from the racks, weapons they were familiar with so that there was less chance of accidentally blowing themselves into very small pieces. While the other vampires agonised over long, considered choices, Angel collected small handheld weapons unobtrusively and quickly while the other vampires weren't looking. Professor Walsh almost thought he winked at her but she couldn't be sure.  
  
"Alright," said Zac. "Let's go."  
The two scientists and three soldiers were propelled along the corridor. Angel shoved Professor Walsh roughly.  
"Is there anywhere there aren't surveillance cameras?"  
Professor Walsh looked around for a few seconds before she realised that it was Angel talking to her.  
"Anywhere the control room can't see us?" whispered Angel again, not making eye contact.  
Zac turned to look at the pair of them. Under his suspicious gaze, Professor Walsh looked straight down at the ground and kept walking. Once Zac had looked away again, Professor Walsh whispered back, "The toilets. Not just the cubicles but the sinks as well."  
"The nearest?"  
"Mens. Left up ahead."  
  
For a few minutes, it looked as like Zac might turn to the right but at the last minute he turned left. Angel's sigh of relief was almost audible and Professor Walsh couldn't help looking up to see if the other vampires had noticed. They continued down the left corridor until they could see the toilet symbol on the wall. Angel moved away from Professor Walsh until he was walking closest to the toilets. When they passed the toilets, he paused and turned around as if he was confused.  
"What is it?" asked Zac, almost impatient but struggling to be polite.  
"Does anyone else hear that?" asked Angel, tilting his head.  
"I don't hear anything," said Zac.  
It was meant to be mocking but Zac wasn't entirely sure that Angel was lying.  
"It's in here," insisted Angel, walking into the toilet.  
  
A minute passed and Angel didn't reappear. The pudgy redhead tentatively wandered in to look for him. More seconds passed where none of the vampires spoke and their hostages exchanged hopeful glances.  
"Come on, guys, we haven't got time for this," said Zac, less sure that it was a practical joke.  
He pointed to one of his fellow vampires, "Go get them."  
The vampire obeyed and strolled confidently into the toilet.  
"Zac?" asked Winnie, the brunette.  
"What is it?"  
The vampire began to scratch at her nailpolish nervously before answering, "I'm not sure but... I think I remembered where I see him before."  
  
There was a roar from the toilet as a vampire died. Zac gripped the blaster in his hands more firmly. Licking his lips nervously, he turned back to Winnie.  
"Where?" he demanded.  
"I could be wrong but I... I think he's Angelus."  
"Angelus?" frowned Zac. "As in Darla's Angelus? One of the Master's followers?"  
Winnie nodded, "But there isn't any Master any more. There was rumours before that Angelus had disappeared or lost his marbles but... when Spike ran this town, he fought with Angelus a whole heap. Something else - Spike didn't like Angelus 'cause he was hanging around with the Slayer."  
Zac's eyes widened slightly, "You're telling me that the vampire in there is not only a follower of the Master but also working for the Slayer?"  
Winnie nodded again, "He's strong and smart... and loyal to the Slayer. Once Spike tried to sacrifice Angelus but the Slayer attacked her. They say there was three of them and they killed twenty vampires before they made Spike a cripple."  
Zac looked at her, "Can't trust all you hear. Some demons'll say anything."  
Winnie nodded enthusiastically a third time. Zac thought for a moment and then made a decision.  
  
He grabbed Dr Moore by the shoulder and shoved her into the toilets, following behind her. She lost her balance and sprawled on the tiles. Her face tilted up slightly, looking behind her. Zac followed her gaze and made as if to walk into the middle of the room. At the last moment, he turned to where she'd looked and jabbed with a stake. His instinct had been right but it was the pudgy redhead, who Angel had pinned to the wall, that crumbled into dust. Before Zac could prepare for another strike, Angel pulled him off balance and the momentum pulled him out of the sight of the other vampires. At the loss of their leader, Winnie and the other remaining vampire turned to the other hostages. They pointed to the toilets with their weapons. The hostages obediently shuffled into the toilet.  
  
The toilets at first appeared empty. There was a pair of black business shoes stretching out of one of the cubicles but apart from that... nothing. There was dead silence. Winnie raised her blaster and pointed it at the head of one of the soldiers.  
"Come out," announced Winnie. "Or I..."  
Before she finished her sentence, Angel stepped from one of the cubicles. He released his hand from Zac's mouth and pushed him towards Winnie. As the two of them collided, the blaster fired but her aim was off and the pulse hit the sprinkler system in the roof above them. After the two of them had hit the ground, the blaster bounced across the tiles to rest at the feet of one of the soldiers. Angel himself was busy wrestling with the remaining vampire. The vampire knocked him off and began to take a few clumsy swings which Angel ducked under easily before grabbing him by the shoulder and pushing him onto a stake.  
  
The soldier picked up the blaster, pointing it at Zac and Winnie. Both the vampires froze. They growled in unison as a light powdery mist began to leak from the damaged sprinkler system. The mist quickly became a trickle and then a downpour. The soldier looked down at the blaster, realising that firing an electric current in a room swimming with water was not such a good idea. Zac must have realised it too because he charged the soldier. Not to be outdone, the soldier smacked him in the side of the head with the blaster. Zac answered by slapping him so hard across the face that the soldier slid across the tiles. Dr Moore crawled up behind him and thrust a stake into his back. Zac gurgled, turned to give her a disapproving stare then collapsed into dust.  
  
Winnie dove at another soldier who grabbed her and they locked arms, Winnie marginally stronger and slowly pushing the soldier off her. Before she succeeded, Professor Walsh swung a blood-stained baton into the back of her head. As a stunned Winnie hit the floor, the other soldiers finished her off. Professor Walsh gazed at the bloodstained baton in her hand and then back to the cubicle where the body of the real Dr Inggelman still lay. Almost as if on cue, the group simultaneously turned to look at Angel.  
"Um, hi?" offered Angel, smiling weakly.  
  
***  
  
Around the fringes of the Initiative, in the cold, empty corridors Graham set up the next plastic explosive, then hurried to take cover with the others. On the count of three, he threw the switch and the security door disappeared in a cloud of smoke and a fury of sparks. Riley looked up at the man-sized hole.  
"Worked," he told Graham bluntly.  
"Righto, let's get going then," said Giles.  
Forrest looked around with distaste at the rest of the eager Scooby gang. To him Xander was a civilian but at least he seemed sensible and reliable. He was less fond of Giles who was far too old for Forrest's taste or of Wesley, who was far too arrogant. Willow, Tara, Anya and Cordelia got points for enthusiasm but quite frankly weren't much of an asset. He could understand easily now why Buffy was so used to taking charge, her support group didn't seem that wonderful in Forrest's opinion. With that thought, he almost didn't mind her company as much.  
  
"Let's go," said Buffy, a statement rather than a suggestion.  
She ploughed on through the opening, the others following by habit. Again Forrest found himself accepting her in the role of leader without realising it. Buffy disappeared into the dispersing smoke and seconds later there was a thud and two cries of surprise. Riley burst through the opening, frantically trying to get to her and tripping in the process. As the smoke cleared, Riley realised that there were two figures sitting on the ground, obviously having collided in the confusion of the smoke. Buffy began to giggle hysterically. As Riley got closer, he could see that Buffy was trying to speak but simply couldn't stop herself giggling. Finally, she gave up and threw her arms about the bewildered figure sitting on the ground.  
"Angel, oh my god! Angel, you're alive!" she shrieked, hugging him tightly. "Oh, you're wonderful!"  
There was more laughter and then Angel returned the hug a little sheepishly, aware of Riley watching.  
  
As Professor Walsh and the group of ex-hostages emerged from the smoke, Buffy broke the hug and began to scold him.  
"How could you do that to me! My god, I thought you were dead!"  
"I didn't mean to scare you," apologised Angel.  
Buffy was so happy to see him, she couldn't stay mad for long. She burst out giggling and stood up. She held out her hands and Angel accepted them gratefully. She pulled him to his feet as Riley came up to stand beside her.  
"Oh, Riley, this is Angel. Angel, this is Riley," she said, waving her arms as if she were advertising something.  
"Hi," said Angel politely.  
"Hi," said Riley, equally politely.  
It was a fact. They hated each others guts.  
  
***  
  
Porera's claws tapped in annoyance against the console.  
"What are they doing?" asked Nerri, shocked.  
"I'm not sure," said Porera. "The Slayer seems to... ah, that's good."  
On the screen, fighting had broken out in the little group. Angel smashed the Slayer across the back of the head with a blaster. At the same time, the rest of Angel's party took the soldiers by surprise.   
  
"Good thinking," grinned the watching Porera. "Always room in the world for traitors. Nerri, go down and find something to block all those holes they made."  
Nerri grinned and left. On the monitor, Angel was gesturing to his companions. Porera had no audio to hear what was said but the group stayed behind while Angel returned to the Control Room with the unconscious Slayer bundled over his shoulder. Porera opened the door for him. Angel dumped the Slayer unceremoniously on the ground. Porera applauded him.  
"That was very interesting," said Porera. "I was watching. She seemed very happy to see you."  
"She used to know me," shrugged Angel, smiling smugly. "She still trusts me."  
Porera grinned appreciatively.  
"Where are the others?" asked Angel.  
The control room was empty apart from Porera, Chana, Riga and Hallta.   
"Most of them have gone to talk peace with the other demons. Tell them our plans," explained Porera, shifting his eyes to the Slayer.  
He crouched down, leaning over Buffy, "Decisions, decisions. What do we do with you?"  
  
"I've an idea," said Angel quietly.  
Angel seized Hallta in a headlock and snapped his neck. He grabbed Chana by the fur and bowled her into Liga, who was trying to aim a gun. The gun went off, killing Chana. Porera snarled and rose to his feet. Buffy opened her eyes and kicked Porera's legs out from under him. Buffy flipped onto her feet and began to fight him in hand-to-hand combat. Liga stared in horror at Chana's corpse and then flung himself furiously at Angel.  
  
Angel was fast and experienced but he was still injured and it was only a matter of time before one of Liga's random blows found the mark. When it did, Angel cried out and dropped to one knee. Liga tried to seize the advantage but Angel recovered enough to deflect his punch. Shifting his weight, Liga tried a spinning wheel kick. Angel was knocked flat to the ground.  
  
Buffy came in from the side, attacking Liga with a sudden barage of blows so fierce that the demon fell to the ground and didn't move again. Buffy helped Angel to his feet, watching him suspiciously. Angel winced as Buffy rested her hand against his side.  
"I knew it," she said accusingly. "You're hurt."  
"It's not that bad," said Angel, defensively.  
"You should have told me," insisted Buffy.  
"I'm fine," said Angel. "And we have something to do."  
Reluctantly, Buffy stepped over the motionless body of Porera and moved to the console.  
"Alright," she said, taking a sheet of instructions from her pocket. "Where are the switches, again?"  
Angel came up behind her, startling her when he spoke, "There are a lot to choose from."  
"Well, Riley said they're all reversible so it doesn't really matter if we screw up."  
  
Angel peered at the security monitors.  
"Heads up," he warned. "Vampires heading straight for Riley, while we're on the topic."  
Buffy looked at the instructions frantically. She flicked a switch experimentally and the lights went out.  
"I don't think that was it," came Angel's voice, from somewhere in the darkness.  
"Ah... I can't see the switch anymore," said Buffy.  
"I can see just fine," answered Angel smugly.  
There was a click as Angel reflicked the switch and the lights flickered on again.  
"Thanks," said Buffy dryly.  
  
She tried another switch. The party of vampires suddenly found a locked door barring their way. Buffy set to work shutting every single door in the Initiative, locking all the hostiles in.  
"Great, now, we have to work out how to get Riley here," muttered Buffy.  
Angel leant over to help her and the ensuing argument about what to do led to them eventually clearing a path from Riley to the control room. Buffy opened a wrong door and had to shut it in a hurry before a random werewolf attacked Forrest. She sighed in frustration.  
"You know," she said, brightening slightly. "This would make one hell of a computer game."  
Angel agreed reluctantly just as the door opened and Professor Walsh entered, followed by the Scooby Gang and the soldiers.  
  
"I think you should take over," said Angel to Professor Walsh, indicating the switches.  
"I thought we were doing a pretty good job," said Buffy cheerfully.  
"No comment," said Angel quietly.  
"What?"  
"Nothing."  
Professor Walsh smiled, amused, before turning her attention to the console. She flicked switches, releasing all the soldiers and scientists who had been trapped since the beginning of the takeover and did it in half the time it had taken Buffy and Angel.  
"What do we do about the hostiles?" asked Graham.  
"Nerve gas, tranquilizers, taser blasts..." answered Professor Walsh. "It'll take a while but it's the best way to be sure. Agent Gates, you're in charge of the clean-up. Agent Finn, if you would assist me?"  
"Yes, ma'am," answered Forrest, leading the others out.  
The Scooby gang made as if to leave but Professor Walsh objected.  
"We can help," insisted Buffy.  
Professor Walsh relented, "Be my guest."  
  
Angel made as if to follow the group out but Buffy held up a hand to stop him.  
"Angel, you're injured. You're staying here."  
"Buffy...," Angel began to protest.  
"Don't argue with me. You're not fighting and that's final."  
Buffy turned her back on him to show that the conversation was finished and walked after Forrest. When Angel turned around, Riley was giving him a look.  
"What?" demanded Angel, somewhat harshly.  
"I didn't say anything," shrugged Riley, turning to help Professor Walsh.  
"No, I mean I heard something," said Angel grimly.  
  
Professor Walsh pointed to the security monitor, "There are soldiers coming towards us."  
Angel walked to the control room door to meet them. As Riley and Professor Walsh returned their attention to unlocking the various doors for Forrest's band, Angel wandered out into the corridor. Watching the security monitors, Professor Walsh raised an eyebrow as she watched the scooby gang join a fight. When Willow and Tara produced a cloud of smoke from nowhere she was surprised. When they turned a werewolf into a mouse, she was astonished. Especially when the mouse began to run around biting the soldiers until Graham grabbed it by the tail and flung it across the room.   
  
Dr Moore looked up as Angel's voice drifted back to the control room from the hallway, "Whoa, careful there. Someone could get hurt."  
A few seconds later, his voice had a degree of annoyance in it, "Could you please, stop that? It's really very annoying."   
Angel walked back into the control room, looking irritable. The soldiers followed him in.  
"Good to see you alive, gentlemen," said Professor Walsh to the soldiers.  
There were murmurs of "yes, ma'am" through the group. Then one of the soldiers tried to fire a taser blast at Angel. Angel grabbed the barrel of his gun, altering the aim almost casually. The blast slammed harmlessly into the wall. Angel pulled the gun out of his hands and turned to face the soldier.  
"Look," he said angrily. "If you don't stop that, I'm going to have to hit you!"  
"Angel," said Professor Walsh. "Leave him alone."  
The soldier retreated back to his companions in embarrassment. Dr Moore tried to conceal her grin.  
  
Angel smiled gratefully at Professor Walsh. Professor Walsh found herself blushing but covered by answering, "Seeing as you have just saved our lives, it seems prudent to allow you to continue on your way."  
"Ma'am, he's a dangerous...," one of the soldiers began to object.  
The soldier stopped when he found himself on the receiving end of Professor Walsh's icy stare.  
"Well," said Riley, trying to find words to cover the uneasy silence. "At least that wasn't too hard."  
"Statements like that often jinx the situation," said Angel ominously.  
"You're not wrong," said a voice.  
"What?" asked Professor Walsh.  
Porera, now conscious, leapt to his feet and charged Professor Walsh. Riley punched him in the head. That did the trick and Porera was once again unconscious.  
"That was easy," said Angel.  
"I know," agreed Riley. "Scary, isn't it?"  
  
***  
  
It took the Initiative all of two nights to recapture all their hostiles. The night after they finished, Angel prepared to leave Sunnydale. Buffy insisted seeing him before he took off with Cordelia and Wesley. The group of well wishers gathered outside the mansion just after the sun had set. There was a breeze in the air, which kept catching Buffy's hair and obscuring her expression. Angel and Buffy stood facing each other, talking quietly while Riley watched from his car and Cordelia and Wesley waited in Angel's car.  
  
"Buffy, I'm fine," said Angel firmly.  
"Are you sure?" repeated Buffy.  
"I'm sure."  
"Are you really, really sure?" asked Buffy. "If you're not, you should stay here until the wound heals."  
"Look," said Angel. "If I drop dead, call me a liar but until then, trust me, please?"  
"Alright," said Buffy grudginly.  
"Would you be satisfied if I danced a jig?" asked Angel in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Would that convince you that I'm fine?"  
"Yes, that would help a lot," said Buffy quickly.  
Angel sighed, "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."  
  
He gazed at her for a few moments, not quite willing to walk away. Buffy was beginning to return his gaze when she snapped out of it.  
"Bye," she said coldly, turning her back on him and walking away.  
She walked over to Riley's car, Angel watching her for a moment before joining Cordelia and Wesley. Buffy and Riley sat in silence until the convertible had left.  
"I was watching you say goodbye... to Angel," said Riley needlessly.  
"Oh," said Buffy.  
"You turned your back on him," continued Riley. "It seemed very... cold."  
"I had to," replied Buffy in a monotone.  
"Why?"  
  
Buffy looked at Riley, trying to judge whether she could tell him.  
"If I didn't leave then, I would have seen that look," she explained.  
"Which look?"  
"The look in his eyes which says he still loves me. And that he'd forgive me no matter what I did. God, when he does that..."  
Riley rested his hand on hers, his heart catching in his mouth, "You still love him."  
Buffy turned to Riley in shock, anxious to reassure him, "Riley, I love you... It's just, Angel doesn't have many friends. I can't stand the thought of him being alone."  
She moved her hand to Riley's shoulder, wanting him to understand so badly.  
"Well, what about Cordelia and Wesley?" asked Riley.  
Buffy snorted, "Please, Cordelia defines the term bimbo and Wesley is just... Wesley."  
Riley smiled, "Maybe, but they both seemed to genuinely miss Angel when he disappeared. He might have more friends than you realise."  
Riley put his arm around her and she sighed, "I hope so."  
"You heard what the man said," added Riley. "He's fine."  
Buffy began to giggle, confident, safe and happy in Riley's arms. The world was safe again for one more night.  
  
***  
  
Professor Walsh drew some odd looks when she brought the vase of flowers into the Initiative.  
"What are those for?" asked Dr Moore. "Or should I ask who?"  
"Time for some changes around here," answered Professor Walsh crisply. "A little colour never hurt anybody."  
She placed the vase with scientific precision on her workspace. Dr Moore turned and walked away, suppressing a final smile. Professor Walsh opened her drawer to search for a pen when she noticed a small card resting on her desk. She picked it up, frowning. There was a small picture, a phone number and the words 'Angel Investigations'. It looked like a business card. She turned it over to find a message scrawled on the back in pen.   
/Just in case./  
  
The End (for now) 


End file.
